


Alternatively

by EllsKay



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Childhood Trauma, M/M, Maybe More Than Once, PTSD symptoms, Seduction, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:44:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 58,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllsKay/pseuds/EllsKay
Summary: Light has finally killed L, but his victory doesn't bring him the satisfaction he expected. Mind-numbing boredom, insomnia, a series of strange dreams and nightmares and the knowledge that his utopia is still out of reach threaten to send him over the edge and force him to make a desperate decision - to strike a deal with Ryuk and go back in time to the last days of L's life, in search for a different ending to their story.





	1. Premise Part 1 - Connection

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I really hope this fandom isn't dead yet, because I've joined it only recently and have sooo many ideas for fics! It would be a shame if no one got to read any of them :/
> 
> Okay, so this chapter and the next are basically a reaaally lengthy prologue to the story split into two parts and their purpose is to show how Light reaches the point to make the time travel deal. This first part - set during the time Light and L were chained together - might seem a little boring to you because it's mostly canon compliant, but, despite my efforts, I couldn't remove it. The story just didn't seem to work without taking a look at their complicated relationship before L's death occurred. Anyway, if you're bored, you can skip it altogether and go right to the next chapter where the story starts to deviate from canon.
> 
> Also, I'd like to add that this story follows the manga timeline, but many scenes will be taken from the anime too. I hope it doesn't get confusing.
> 
> Okay, these notes are getting too long, so I'll stop rumbling now. You can start reading and I hope you'll enjoy it :)))

_July 23 rd, 2004_

The deafening crack of the shot echoed loudly in the small confines of the car, muffling Misa’s scream, and Light braced himself for the explosion of pain as the bullet pierced through his skull...

...which never came.

_Am I-_

_Am I dead?_

Even his thoughts were stuttering, as shaky as his body, barely even heard in his head above the frantic drumming of his heart. His back was now pressed against the back of the car seat as he had unconsciously leaned away from his father, but his eyes were wide open, looking at the gun which was now smoking after firing the shot, and yet...

_I'm not dead._

_Why- Why am I-_

“A b-blank?” he stuttered weakly.

The hand that had been holding the gun fell and his father slumped, sitting back on his seat like all the energy had been drained out of him. Light’s head was still spinning, brain whirring and sputtering as it tried to comprehend- Wh- What-

“I’m glad,” said his father breathing heavily and he slouched forward, resting his head on the dashboard.

“G-Glad?” said Light. “What is this, father?”

“Forgive me, both of you. This was the only way to get you two out of confinement. But understand that I was only able to do that because I believed that you were not Kira.” He raised his head just a little, looking at some spot above the rear-way mirror. “Were you watching, Ryuzaki?”

Both Light and Misa gasped, and at once Light understood.

_A test. Of course!_

He should have known. L would never do something so irrational.

“I did what you said and, as you can see, I’m alive.”

 _“Yes,”_ L’s deep voice was heard via intercom, confirming Light’s suspicion, _“that was an amazing act. In that situation, if Amane was the Second Kira who could kill by seeing a person’s face, she would have killed Yagami-san before he could kill Light-kun. Or, if Light-kun was Kira, I believe that Kira could even kill his parents in a dire situation. We can’t rule out the possibility that Light-kun knew partway through that this was an act... But, as was promised, we will end your confinement.”_

Light felt a wave of relief wash over him at the words. It was over. He was free... and alive. It had all been an act.

 _You- You bastard,_  he thought, but it was weak and lacked real venom. He could only feel immense relief as his heart rate slowed down to a steady beat again... and perhaps a little impressed at the mere audacity of this plan.

 _“As for Amane Misa,”_ L went on,  _“you claim that they were occult videos, but we have a confession that you sent them, as well as proof of it. Your confinement will end, but you will be placed under surveillance until Kira is caught and it’s all over.”_

“What?” exclaimed Misa indignantly. “You’re still suspicious?”

Soichiro turned his head to chide her gruffly, “Yes, but you can return to your daily life. Isn’t that good enough? On the flip side, if you’re innocent, then that means you’re being protected by the police.”

“Oh...” Misa relented. “Well, since I’m not the Second Kira, I’ll just think of it as getting bodyguards!”

 _“And as for Light-kun,”_ L chimed in again,  _“like I promised, you will be with me twenty-four hours a day, working on the case.”_

...So, it wasn’t over.

And yet, he could not bring himself to feel anything other than excitement at the prospect. He should be angry, he should be shouting at the detective for what he’d put him through and refuse to cooperate further, but... He was being offered to work on the  _Kira_  case, possibly the toughest case he could ever hope to tackle in his entire career, and with  _L_ , no less – the world’s greatest detective. He could learn so much from him, even if he didn’t exactly agree with his methods. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He would be an idiot to say no simply out of spite.

And to what end? To go back to his boring sheltered life, attending classes he already knew everything about, while L put his life on the line to catch the most dangerous mass-murderer in history? The mass murderer who had framed  _him_  for his crimes?

No fucking way.

And if he cleared his name and won over L’s respect in the process, all the better.

“Alright, Ryuzaki,” he said with a smile. “Let’s catch him together.” He felt his eyes spark with determination, all too aware of the weight of this moment. “Let’s get Kira.”

 _“Yes,”_ said L, and Light could hear the faint signs of a smile in his voice,  _“good to be working with you.”_

* * *

_August 2 nd, 2004_

“Hey, I can’t get in the mood for a date!” whined Misa.

“Don’t mind me,” said L boredly around his fork, which was hanging from his mouth. Light winced slightly at his poor manners, even though he should have been used to them by now. “Aren’t you going to eat that cake?”

“Sweets make you fat, so I’m cutting back,” said Misa with her nose in the air.

“Even if you eat sweets, if you use your head, you won’t get fat.”

Light fought the urge to roll his eyes. Only L could say something so absurd and get away with it. Sometimes it was really hard to look at this ridiculous man and believe that he really was the world’s greatest detective and humanity’s last hope to stop Kira’s reign of terror.

Light closed his eyes and sighed as the two of them continued bickering like children about cakes and dates and perverts. He couldn’t decide who acted more immature, Misa or L. At least Misa had the excuse of being a mere model, and not a particularly bright one at that. L, on the other hand, should be expected to act like a responsible adult, considering how many lives depended on him. Light almost wished Aisawa were there to referee the conversation and bring things back on track.

“More importantly,” Light felt the need to cut in before this train-wreck of a conversation derailed even further, “though we’re here at the finished headquarters, Ryuzaki, you don’t seem motivated at all.”

“Motivation, huh?” said L thoughtfully. “...Don’t have it. Actually,I’m depressed.”

“Depressed?” Light had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Yes,” said L, popping a piece of cake in his mouth. “I thought Light-kun was Kira all along.” Light cringed again. He wished that he would at least  _swallow_  his mouthful before he spoke. “Thinking that my deductions have been off... It’s a shock.” He sighed softly. “No, I’m still suspecting you. That’s why we’re doing  _this_.” He raised his handcuffed wrist to bring attention to the chain. “But Kira was able to control people’s actions. Therefore, Kira was controlling Light-kun and Misa-san to make me think you were Kira. If I think about it that way, it ends up making sense to me.”

“With that thinking,” said Light, trying to keep at bay the icy tone that threatened to manifest in his voice, “it means that Misa and I were either  _controlled_  by Kira or  _were_  Kira.”

“Yes, I think there is no doubt about that. My theory is that the confined Light-kun was Kira. And the moment you were detained, the killings had ceased. We can say that, until then, Light-kun was Kira. But after two weeks, criminals started dying again. From these facts, we can make the following deduction – Kira’s power gets passed on to people.”

“Interesting way of thinking,” Light tried to humor the pouting detective. “But if that is true, then catching Kira is impossible.”

“Yes, that is why I’m at a loss. If the controlled people get caught, the power gets transferred and the memories are lost. In that case, just catching them would be useless.”

“Well, it isn’t determined yet,” argued Light, trying to be patient. He should remember, this was  _L_  he was talking to. Even if he sounded like a child at the moment, he was still a respectable detective... Sort of. “Get some motivation.”

“Motivation? Can’t get much of it. Rather, we shouldn’t try too hard.” He brought his finger to his mouth, pulling at his lower lip contemplatively. “If we chase him too desperately, we only endanger our own lives. Do you not think so?”

...Was he  _serious_?

After everything he’d done for this case – after placing Light in confinement for  _fifty days_ , after having his father fake-shoot him at a deserted location, after putting him through all of  _that_  in order to prove his theory – now he was thinking of giving up? Just because he was scared?

Where was the L that openly challenged Kira on live TV? The L that vowed that justice would prevail no matter what? The L that Light looked up to?

Light slowly stood up from the couch. “Ryuzaki...” he said in a deceptively calm voice.

“Huh?”

He swung his fist at L’s face and his knuckles collided with his cheekbone, sending him flying backwards and tumbling on the floor. Light had never punched someone before – granted, he’d never been this  _angry_  with someone before. It felt exhilarating to let his rage explode like this, but only for a moment, because suddenly the chain yanked on his wrist and he overbalanced, almost falling on the floor face first. A crash was heard as a potted plant fell on the floor and Misa shrieked, adding to the noise and chaos that had erupted all of a sudden.

L sat up slowly and raised his head, revealing the dark bruise that was already forming on his cheek. “...That hurt,” he said, his usually monotonous voice tinted with a dose of surprise.

“Don’t even joke about it,” said Light, still fuming. “Just because I wasn’t Kira – just because your deductions were wrong – you lost motivation?”

“Perhaps I didn’t phrase this correctly,” admitted L. “I meant that those things may happen if we move first.”

“There’s no way we can catch him without going on the offensive!” countered Light passionately. “Innocent people have already been involved!” He walked towards the fallen detective and pulled him up by the collar of his shirt. “And  _you_  were the one that confined me and Misa!”

“I know,” said L quietly. “But, for whatever reason...”

Before Light could react, L's foot shot out of nowhere, crashing into Light’s chin.

“An eye for an eye,” said L as Light fell backwards on the couch, dragging L with him by the chain. The couch toppled as they both crashed onto it and they ended up tumbling on the floor.

L managed to pick himself up on his knees first. “Rather than my deductions being off, simply saying that Yagami Light equals Kira and Amane Misa equals Second Kira won’t solve this case. That’s why I was feeling a little down. Is that not allowed to a human being?”

“No, it isn’t,” spat Light, rising to his knees as well. “You speak like you won’t be satisfied unless I’m Kira.”

“Won’t be satisfied unless Light-kun is Kira?” echoed L, settling in his usual crouch, which now looked more like a fighting stance than a casual sitting position. “That may be true. I just realized... I wanted Light-kun to be Kira.”

That struck Light harder than L’s kick.

 _How can he_ say _things like that?_ he marveled, as he felt a bitter taste settle in his mouth.  _Is he really that emotionally handicapped that he cannot see how such words can affect a person? Or does he simply not care?_

Like it wasn’t enough that L deemed him capable of murder – and of  _this_  scale too – now he admitted that he  _wanted_  him to be Kira? He’d really rather have him executed than be proved wrong?

If it had been anyone else, this might not have affected him this much; but from L? Someone he respected? Someone who claimed to be his friend? It stung.

L didn’t seem all that surprised when a second punch made contact with his nose.

“An eye for an eye...” he forced out. “I’m... pretty strong...”

True to his word, L swiveled and then his foot struck Light in the face. Light somehow managed to stay upright and yanked the chain, so that L stumbled forward. They grabbed each other by their shirts, ready to retaliate, when suddenly the phone rang, its electronic sound diffusing the tension that had been escalating uncontrollably.

They let go off each other and L squatted next to the phone to pick up the receiver, dangling it next to his ear. “Yes?” He listened for a few moments with an unimpressed expression. “Oh, is that so?” he said flatly. A little later he threw the receiver back, unceremoniously ending the call.

“What was it?” asked Light, having finally caught his breath.

“Just Matsuda’s usual clowning.

“Well, Matsuda-san is always like that.”

And just like that, they were on the same page again – their previous anger already dissolved like a bad smell swept away by the wind, the camaraderie already restored in the face of pure idiocy.

* * *

_August 15 th, 2004_

Light was trying in vain to sleep, but such a feat is impossible when you’re chained to a chronic insomniac.

“Ryuzaki, will you just turn that damn thing off and go to sleep?” he groaned tiredly. It had been more than a couple of weeks since the last time he had a good night’s sleep. He was exhausted beyond measure.

L, who was sitting in his usual crouching position at his side of the bed with his laptop balanced precariously on his knees, raised his head just long enough to shoot him an unimpressed look. “No, Light-kun, I will not  _sleep_. I have a murderer to catch.”

“Well, so do I! Unless you’ve forgotten, I want to catch Kira just as much as you, even if it’s only to get rid of  _this_  thing.” He raised his left hand and rolled his wrist so that the chain jingled. “But in order to be able to  _function_  – much less catch the most dangerous mass murderer of the century – I need  _sleep._  Surely you understand that?”

“Then  _sleep_ , Light-kun,” said L without looking up from the laptop’s screen, which cast his pale face with a bluish hue, making him look eerie, like a ghost. The dark smudges under his eyes only added to the otherworldly effect. “I am not keeping you.”

“Yes, you are!” Light shot back. “How am I supposed to sleep with the light from your screen, and with that  _incessant_  typing?”

L cocked his head to the side. “And what would Light-kun have me do instead? Stare blankly at the ceiling until he deigns to awake from his beauty sleep?”

Light bit hard on his lip to stop the automatic retort that was trying to leap out of his mouth. Before he met L, he’d never had so much trouble controlling his reactions and it was more than a little unsettling. “How about you sleep as well?” he managed in a patient tone. “It would do you some good. It’s been days since you had a shut-eye.”

L stopped typing in order to level him with an exceptionally piercing gaze – which was even sharper than his  _usual_  piercing gaze. “And why would Light-kun suggest such a thing, unless he wishes to undermine my efforts to catch Kira?”

Light turned on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, effectively muffling the frustrated groan that forced its way out of his throat. Once he was done, he rolled on his back again and said calmly, “I am not trying to undermine your investigation. I merely wish to sleep for a few hours so that I can be functional tomorrow and able to help you in your efforts.”

L closed his eyes and gave a long, deep sigh. He looked like he was at his limit as well. They’ve already had this argument a great number of times before and they kept going around in circles, repeating the same arguments again and again in an endless loop. He was bound to get tired of this as well. “If I turn off my laptop, will Light-kun cease his whining?”

“Yes! Just stop with that infernal typing, for god’s sake!”

L looked like he was biting his tongue to stop himself from saying something particularly cutting. “Very well,” he said in a controlled voice and proceeded to flip his laptop closed and toss it aside, engulfing the room in darkness. “Light-kun may sleep now.”

...For real? Was L actually  _allowing_  him to sleep?

It must be some kind of trap. There was no way he suddenly saw sense...

...Was there?

“Alright,” he said carefully and turned on his side. “Good night, Ryuzaki.”

“Good night, Light-kun.”

Light closed his eyes and tried to relax, but there was something bothering him. L just wasn’t acting like himself. It was simply unnerving that the obstinate man gave in so easily.

And it wasn’t just that. Light kept expecting to feel the mattress shift underneath him as L lied down to sleep, but several minutes ticked by and nothing happened. Surely, he wasn’t going to sleep sitting like that? Light had caught him doing just that a couple of times – simply nodding off while still perched in his chair in that uncomfortable-looking position – but there was no reason to do that in a nice big bed.

Light kept telling himself that he should forget about L and his weird quirks, that he should be sleeping, that it wasn’t his problem, but...

That was it, wasn’t it? It  _was_  his problem if there was something wrong with L. Whether he liked it or not, their fates were irrevocably intertwined in more ways than a simple chain joining their wrists. And it wasn’t just social obligation that was forcing him to deal with this. He was actually more than a little concerned about him. Genuinely concerned – which did not happen often, or for anyone.

But L wasn’t anyone. Since the day he had entered Light’s life, it was like the whole world had been spinning around him. Everyone else had ceased to matter as his fate interlocked with the fate of this strange but shockingly similar creature. Because, while they looked like polar opposites, and  _were_  opposites in many ways, they had more in common than with anyone else in the whole world, and they were much more alike than they were different – like two sides of the same coin.

Which was why that, at least in Light’s case, it hadn’t been a lie when he had claimed that L was Light’s only real friend. There were many others who would wish to claim that title, but they were all too ordinary, too mediocre to ever hope to stand next to Light as equals. L, though... he  _was_  his equal. Despite his flaws and his quirks and his eccentricities, he was someone worthy of his respect – even his admiration at times. And perhaps... even more...

With a soft sigh, Light turned on his other side to look at the detective. The moonlight that slipped through the window was weak and dim, but L’s white shirt and pale skin reflected it back like they were fluorescent. He was still slouching like before and he was just sitting there, motionless. His eyes were blank and unfocused as they stared absently at the opposite wall, and their dull gaze was so different to his usual penetrating stare that it made him look like a whole new different person. It was closed off instead of offensive and it made him seem younger and more vulnerable.

As Light pried his eyes away from his face, he suddenly noticed that L wasn’t sitting completely still like he had thought, but his hands, which were resting on his knees, were moving their long nimble fingers, like he was still typing on his laptop’s keyboard. Light almost passed it off as another of L’s strange quirks, but then he realized with a surprised jolt that the fingers weren’t drumming on his knees randomly, but they followed some kind of rhythm...

...A rhythm that Light recognized. He could feel his own fingers itch to pick it up and start pressing on invisible keys, drawing out soft melodious notes that weaved a musical spell to cast onto the silence of the night.

“[Clair de lune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY)?” he whispered softly, like he didn’t want to disturb this strange ritual.

L’s fingers paused in surprise. Apparently, he had been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed that Light was still awake and observing him. Perhaps he hadn’t even registered the motion of his fingers on his knees before Light pointed it out.

“I didn’t know Light-kun could play the piano,” he said quietly, turning his gaze towards him. His eyes seemed to have regained a big part of their usual sharpness and vigilance, but there was still some guarded softness lingering in their dark depths.

Light sat up, leaning his back against the headboard. “I used to play when I was younger,” he said. “I gave a few concerts too; I’m surprised that it didn’t turn up in your extensive research of me. I stopped playing, though – around the same time I gave up tennis – in order to focus on my studies.”

“Hmm...” was all L had to say about that as his gaze lowered again on his now motionless fingers that splayed on his knees. His expression was hidden in darkness, but Light didn’t think he’d be able to find anything there even if he were able to see it.

“When did you learn to play?” asked Light, hoping that L wouldn’t clam up as he was wont to do.

“When I was little.” There was a pause, like L contemplated whether it would be safe to say more. “...I think it was my mother that taught me.”

Light opened his mouth to ask about the  _‘I think’_  part, but thought better of it. If he tried to question him about his past, L would inevitably try to evade his questions and shut him out again. It would be better if he played it safe and asked something harmless. “Did you enjoy it? Playing the piano?”

L nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe I did.”

“But there is no piano in the entire building, as far as I’m aware of,” Light pointed out. “If you enjoy playing, then why didn’t you arrange to have one brought here?”

“I stopped playing a long time ago.” L shrugged his shoulders, as if shrugging off the entire conversation, and Light realized that this was as much as L would share. Predictably, that was when the detective went on the offence. “Why aren’t you sleeping, Light-kun? I thought you were tired.”

“I am, but...” He shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been worried about him. “Why aren’t  _you_  sleeping?”

“I am an insomniac, Light-kun. I cannot sleep.”

“Have you tried sleeping pills?”

“Of course I’ve tried sleeping pills, Light-kun. Please try not to ask stupid questions.”

Light bit his tongue, trying not to retort back. The insult stung, but Light knew the detective better than that. He understood that L was being especially difficult to stop him from prying. He must have stumbled upon a sensitive topic.

After a moment’s hesitation, he shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood. “Get up,” he said to L.

L’s slightly surprised expression turned guarded. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

L remained stubbornly seated.

Light sighed heavily. “I am not going to murder you, Ryuzaki. Even if I  _was_  a psychotic mass murderer with a hidden agenda against you, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it here with all those surveillance cameras. I just want to go to the kitchen.”

The detective still looked hesitant, so Light walked around the bed and stood in front of him. L looked both wary and challenging, as if daring him to punch him in the face as he was wont to do. Instead, Light reached out and took one of L’s hands in a grip that was loose enough so that L could yank it away easily if he so wished, and firm enough to show him that he was serious about this. The other man looked more than a little unnerved by this gesture, but also grudgingly intrigued to see where this was going, so he let Light pull him up and then followed him to the kitchen, the chain dangling loosely between them.

Light switched on the light in the kitchen and gestured at L to sit on one of the chairs at the table. The detective did just that, though his eyes still seemed suspicious as they followed his every move. Light ignored them and got to work.

L watched carefully as Light poured milk into a mug and put it in the microwave. Then he watched with just as much suspicion and fascination as he took it back out when it was ready and set it down right in front of L.

“Here,” he said.

L’s eyebrows knitted together in a rare display of confusion. “I... do not understand.”

“Drink it. It’s for you.”

L glanced at the mug warily.“This is...”

“Yes?” Light prompted.

“...not sweet,” L finished, even though Light had a feeling that this was not how he had originally intended to end that sentence. “Maybe if you added a little sugar...”

 Light rolled his eyes before he turned and launched an extensive search in the kitchen’s cupboards.

“Light-kun,” started L, still sounding uncharacteristically confused, “you know that the sugar is in-”

“I’m not looking for sugar,” Light interrupted and then he hummed triumphantly as he located what he had been searching for at the back of the cupboard above the sink. He picked up the glass jar and a spoon and placed them in front of L, whose keen eyes immediately zeroed in on the rich amber color of the thick substance inside.

“...Honey?”

Light nodded as he opened the jar and picked up a generous spoonful before sinking it in the milk. “It’s sickeningly sweet, goes well with the warm milk, and it’s a lot healthier than sugar. It’s perfect for you.” He dipped in two more spoonfuls, and then two more, and started stirring methodically, waiting for the honey to melt inside the warm liquid and infuse it with its sweetness. Then he placed it in front of L again. “Drink.”

L hesitated.

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

L picked the mug up cautiously, like he expected it to attack him at any second. Then, after shooting another wary glance at Light, he took a careful sip.

His eyes widened even more than usual. “This is... quite pleasant.”

Light gave him a satisfied smile. “I told you it would be.”

L’s eyebrows furrowed. “But...”

“But what?”

“...Why?”

Light shrugged as he sat on the chair next to L. “When I was little, my mother used to make me warm milk whenever I had a nightmare.”

L’s eyes narrowed, looking sharp as razors. “I did not have a nightmare, Light-kun, as you well know. I haven’t slept at all in two days and six-”

“Yes, I know that,” said Light amenably. He did note his sudden defensiveness, though, and he was now sure he had guessed L’s reason for refusing to take sleeping pills correctly. “But the warm milk my mother made me  _did_  help me sleep, so I thought perhaps you could try it too.”

L tilted his head to the side and eyed the mug dubiously. “I do not see how this would help me sleep. Is there something in the milk that acts as a sedative? Or is it the temperature that helps you relax enough to sleep?”

Light shrugged again. “I don’t know, I cannot say I have done extensive research on the matter. But perhaps it’s simply the gesture.”

“The gesture?”

“Yes. Perhaps it wasn’t the warm milk that helped me sleep. Maybe it was just the fact that my mother made it for me. It’s comforting to have people care for you.”

L’s eyes narrowed even further as they darted from the mug to Light and back, making the connection Light wanted him to make. “...But you hate me.” He said it like it was a well-known fact.

Light blinked in bewilderment. This was not the response he expected; though he wasn’t quite sure what he  _did_  expect. “No, I don’t. Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” His eyes were fixed on Light’s face, searching it for clues. “You are often angry at me, shouting at me, complaining about me-”

“And from that you deduced that I hate you?”

“What conclusion was I supposed to reach?”

Light sighed and closed his eyes for a few moments. Why did dealing with L have to be so taxing? “You’ve never had friends before, have you?”He didn’t wait for a response – he already knew the answer. “Ryuzaki, I admit that living with you is not easy, but I don’t  _hate_ you for it. People can get angry at their friends and still care about them.”

L managed to look even more mistrustful, which was quite a feat. “Light-kun,” started L, sounding like he was trying hard to reason with him, “I held you in a cell for fifty days.”

...Was L trying to  _make_  him hate him?

“On my insistence,” he countered.

“And I asked your father to pretend to shoot you.”

“To make sure I wasn’t Kira.”

“I still suspect you of being Kira.”

“Ryuzaki, what’s your point?” snapped Light.

“...I think you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”

“...” Light stared wordlessly at L for a few moments. Then he burst out laughing.

“Light-kun?”

Light didn’t answer; he was too busy wheezing and wiping the tears that were running from his eyes.

This was hilarious. Light made fake declarations of friendship and loyalty in an almost daily basis, and the one time he might actually mean it, he wasn’t believed. It figured.

Perhaps being  _blessed_  with L’s taxing friendship was the universe punishing him for all of his lying. But how could he be blamed for lying anyway when people practically begged for pretty lies and shied away when the ugly truth of this rotten world and its corrupt inhabitants was tossed at them? When appearance mattered more to them than substance? Light had long since realized that people would rather live in fake imaginary worlds of beauty and glamour than face their own scary realities and maybe even trying to change them for the better. It wasn’t ill intent that drove Light’s lies, but understanding of how the world worked and trying to make it work in his favor.

He had also learned, however, that L wasn’t like everyone else. He didn’t care for the elusive mirage of magical fairy-tales and make-believe worlds – only about the cold and harsh reality of here and now. He lied almost as much as Light did – because he wasn’t an idiot to believe that anything could ever be achieved by honesty – but he never believed those lies. He never allowed himself to be lulled by them. He only used them to reach the truth at the heart of the matter.

Which was why it was so hard for Light to understand L’s recent behavior. Why was he clinging so desperately to the theory that he was Kira, when the facts were telling him that he wasn’t? And why was he so depressed over the fact that this deduction might have been off? Was it the fact that he desired to find out the truth behind the enigma that was Kira so desperately that he would be upset that the answer was still out of reach when he had thought that he’d been making progress? Or was there something else driving L besides the truth? What other motive could he possibly have?

_“I just realized... I wanted Light-kun to be Kira.”_

Was that it? That he didn’t just want to catch Kira, but he also wanted him to be Light? But why would he root so desperately for this specific outcome when he had spent all of his life striving for the truth?

_Kira... What does Kira really mean to you?_

_What do_ I _mean to you?_

“Light-kun?”

L’s voice finally snapped him out of his musings. The detective, who had looked guarded before, was now looking at him with open suspicion.

Light sighed tiredly. “Drink your milk, Ryuzaki.”

L cast another skeptical glance at the mug in his hands, but in the end he relented – probably more in an effort to get this thing over with than because it brought him the comfort Light had intended to provide him with. At the very least he seemed to enjoy the sweet concoction.

When he was done, Light took the empty mug and rinsed it in the sink before he and L made their way back to their bedroom. For once, both of them got under the covers and Light started to hope that maybe the experiment with the warm milk had worked and that he would actually sleep.

However, after a few minutes it became apparent that L was only pretending to be asleep – presumably for his sake. He was making an impressive effort to be believable, but Light had already spent enough time with the detective to understand that his breathing was faster than his usual sleeping breathing by one and a half second. Light wasn’t sure whether L was trying to reassure him that he had no reason to worry about him or if he was just humoring him to prevent him from annoying him with further attempts to fix his insomnia.

Light felt even more exhausted than before, but he was unable to sleep even without the constant noise L caused. His brain was still restless, trying to decipher the mystery that was the detective known as L. His thoughts were going round and round in dizzying circles, but they always seemed to come back to the same fundamental question.

_What does Kira really mean to you?_

Clearly a lot, considering how much he had risked in his efforts to catch him. With this case, he had gone further than ever before – showing his face, spending a shitload of money to build his headquarters, chaining himself to a suspect... Kira wasn’t just another case for him – just another criminal for him to put behind bars. He was  _The_  Case,  _The_ Criminal,  _The_  Enemy. Light could go as far as call him his nemesis.

It wasn’t the best kind of connection one could form with a fellow human being, but it was probably a more substantial one to the reclusive detective than all others – except maybe his relationship with Watari, who seemed to be more of a father figure to him than an employee.

But where did that leave Light?

If Kira meant a lot to L, then what did his fixation to the idea that Light was Kira mean?

Could it be...

Could it be that Light meant something to L too and that the detective had to label him as his enemy to make it acceptable to himself? 

Could L’s suspicion of him be just a misguided way to form a connection with him? The only kind of connection he could possibly form with anyone else?

If it were about anyone else, this notion would seem ludicrous, but when applied to L, it made some sense. Perhaps this had been his mistake from the beginning. After all, L was nothing like everyone else, so maybe trying to understand him the same way he tried to understand everyone else was doomed to fail from the start. Maybe pursuing an unconventional line of thought was the only way to puzzle him out.

But if that was true – if L really did misinterpret their relationship – then could that be said about him too? After all, they had so much in common, and the fact that neither of them had any meaningful relationships before was one of them.

_Is it possible that I have made the same mistake? That I took our complicated relationship and branded it as ‘friendship’ because I didn’t know any better?_

Perhaps L had been correct before. Not about Light hating him, and definitely not about him suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. But maybe he had a point when he implied that placing Light in confinement and then staging a whole execution to prove his guilt was not the most typical way to make friends. Yes, Light had forgiven him for these things, and he understood why he did them, but that didn’t mean Light enjoyed them. The fake execution especially had probably traumatized him forever; he still had nightmares about it whenever he managed to steal a couple of hours’ worth of sleep.

 _But if we aren’t arch enemies like L seems to think, and if we aren’t friends like_ I _thought, then what are we?_

Perhaps their relationship was too complex to be sufficiently described with one word. However, Light knew that there  _was_  something between them, something other than the chain connecting them.

And perhaps that knowledge was enough for now.

* * *

  _August 29 th, 2004_

Light hadn’t lied before, when he told L that he didn’t hate him. Now, though...

Now he thought he  _might_  actually hate him.

After that night with the warm milk, L changed tactics. Instead of picking a fight every time he had a disagreement with Light, he simply ignored him. Their heated arguments were replaced by cold silence. If Light had to say something relevant to the case, he listened; otherwise, it was like trying to start conversation with a brick wall.

Light had tried to be understanding, tried to reason that perhaps L was acting like a total jerk because he was scared or stressed or depressed, but after a while even  _he_  couldn’t tell whether that was a likely scenario or if he was just kidding himself.

And the timing of this... Was it a coincidence that this change in behavior occurred right after that night? Was there a connection? And what would it be if it was?

Light had a theory. That night he had basically claimed that arguing was normal between friends. Then the next day L had stopped arguing with him altogether. Which meant...

It meant that L was subtly trying to tell him that he did not consider him a friend.

It was ridiculous. Almost everyone he ever met would have given anything for the mere chance to  _talk_ to him, and the ones with whom he  _did_  speak, they all looked at him with looks of adoration or envy. Of course, Light didn’t want L to look at him like  _that_  – both envy and adoration were a sign of lower intelligence addressed towards others who were deemed superior – but still, scorning him like this? That was unacceptable.

Whatever. Light wasn’t going to waste any more time trying to befriend the bastard. He had far more important things to spend time and energy on – like catching Kira, for example.

He wasn’t going to stoop to L’s level, of course, by ignoring his existence or by exploding on him. No, he would continue being civil and polite like always, and he would make an effort to work with him on the case as best as he could, but their relationship would remain purely professional. L was the leading detective of this case and Light was his prime suspect as well as a member of his team. That was all they were and all they would ever be. And Light was fine with that. He really was.

So what if he’d never find anyone he deemed interesting ever again? He had come to terms with this fact long before he had even met L. Being a genius meant superiority over most other people, but it also meant isolation. It was a blessing and a curse and he had made his peace with that.

And what if, after meeting L, he had started to hope that he would have a chance to communicate with someone else on  _his_ level? It had been a stupid decision to put his faith in someone other than himself in the first place. He had learned long ago that the only person he could count on was himself and that expecting things from other people only led to disappointment. He had been stupid to forget that.

And why would he want a friend like L anyway? Sure, he was brilliant, no one could deny that, not even his critics or adversaries. But he was also petty, spoiled, arrogant, inconsiderate, mistrustful and impossibly annoying. He always had to have his way, he never cared about other people’s needs or feelings and he always looked down on anyone that wasn’t him. Not to mention the way he used people in order to solve the case, like they were only pawns - expendable and unimportant. Actually, if Light thought about it, he wasn’t that much different from Kira. Except, perhaps, for the fact that Kira at least  _cared_  about justice and wanted to create a safer world, even if he was doing it the wrong way. L, on the other hand, only cared about himself and about winning the game.

So, really, Light should be  _relieved_  that he dodged that bullet – getting himself emotionally attached to such a cold-blooded and selfish person. And he  _was_  relieved. Any amount of disappointment and bitterness that might be in the mix was negligible and not even worth mentioning.

One more reason Light was glad that he wasn’t L’s friend was the fact that he didn’t have to be concerned about him anymore. Because, if he  _had_  been his friend, he would probably worry about his recent mood swings, about the way he snapped at everyone for no good reason, about the fact that he barely slept in thirteen days, or about the fact that he seemed to alternate between not eating at all and devouring everything with even an ounce of sugar in a fifty-foot radius. He would probably worry about how pale he looked, or how prominent the shadows under his eyes were becoming, or about how he seemed to have lost weight despite his bulimic episodes.

But he wasn’t his friend, so he had no reason to trouble himself with these things. L was a grownup – even if he acted like a petulant child most of the time – and he could take care of himself on his own. Light was simply done with him and that was the end of it.

* * *

_September 6 th, 2004_

Light wasn’t particularly surprised when he found the gigantic chocolate cake in their fridge. Watari always came in when they were working with the task force and stocked their kitchen with food for both of them. This particular cake was probably more excessive than the usual confectionery he left for his charge, but it was probably an effort to cheer up the detective, who was currently slumping in his chair, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

Light cut a few slices, put them on a plate and then he placed it in front of L. “Watari left this for you,” he said to him when his eyes slowly slipped from the ceiling to look at him. His gaze was duller and more tired than usual and the black circles underlining his eyes were giving him an eerie, haunting look.

In other words, he looked like a wreck.

“Thank you,” murmured L and dag in.

Light then took out the tupperware which contained his lunch and was ready to put it in the microwave to heat it when he noticed a sticky note at the bottom. He retrieved it and read it discreetly.

_I put a few powdered sleeping pills in the mix for the cake. Please make sure he doesn’t hurt himself when they take effect._

_-W_

Light managed to keep his face expressionless despite his surprise as he covertly hid the note in his pocket and then proceeded to put his food in the microwave oven. While he waited, his gaze was fixed on L, who was practically shoveling the cake in his mouth, like he was afraid it might disappear from his plate if he didn’t eat it fast enough. Light watched his face for any sign of drowsiness; Watari hadn’t specified what kind of sleeping pills he had put in the cake, or how many, so he had to be on his guard. If L fell from his chair and broke his neck...

...he would be free. Surely, no one would blame him for not having the reflexes to catch him before he injured himself. Really, if Light thought about it, most of his problems would be solved if L happened to die accidentally. He wouldn’t be accused of mass-murder anymore, he wouldn’t be here risking his life to catch Kira, he wouldn’t have to put up with the maddening detective every second of every day. He would be free to go back to his old life, back to his loving family and to his friends from the university, back to studying to become a detective...

 _...Ugh._ He honestly couldn’t decide which of these options was more horrible.

A loud  _clink_ was heard in the quiet kitchen as L’s fork, which had slipped from his slackened grip, hit the floor and in less than a second Light leaped to his side, catching the slumping detective before he fell from his chair. A quick glance at his face showed that L was already fast asleep and Light adjusted his grip on the detective so that he could carry him to the bed. He hoped that Watari had thought to let the task force know that neither of them was going to join them today, because it would be impossible to go down there with a snoring L attached to his wrist.

L wasn’t particularly heavy, despite his height, but he was a dead weight in his arms, completely nerveless. Light thought he looked uncharacteristically defenseless like this – unaware and oblivious to the world around him – but also kind of... soft. He was usually so lithe and wiry and his huge dark eyes so sharp and piercing, he seemed more like a predator than a man. Perhaps this was why he slept so rarely; because he didn’t want others to see that he was human after all, vulnerable and mortal.

Light set him on the bed gently, like he was afraid he might break if he dropped him carelessly on the mattress, and then tucked him in, making sure he was warm and comfortable. He had no idea where the sudden compulsion to take care of him came from; he certainly didn’t  _deserve_  this kind of treatment. Maybe he just liked him more when he was asleep – when he wasn’t accusing him of murder or stripping him bare with that piercing gaze of his. When he wasn’t acting like a machine, hiding his human nature behind calculations and percentages.

If only he were like this more often. Then they might have stood a chance of getting along. But, alas, L wasn’t going to let something as pedestrian as sleep get in the way of catching a murderer; at least not until his worried care-taker decided he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands and drug him for his own good.

Light wondered if L had any idea how messed up that was – how messed up  _he_  was. For the first time he wondered how he ended up like this. What kind of horrors he might have seen in his – relatively short – lifetime to become so cold and detached, and so thoroughly fucked up.

He supposed he would find out soon enough –  _if_ he had guessed L’s reason for avoiding taking sleeping pills correctly.

True enough, three and a half hours later L’s seemingly peaceful sleep was disturbed. He wasn’t thrashing, or screaming, or muttering, or doing anything much really. He seemed to be suffering quietly, with his forehead scrunched up and his tongue caught between his teeth and his body trembling as he curled up tightly into himself, pulling his knees close to his chest.

Light watched him with unadulterated disbelief. This was so unlike the detective. L did  _not_  suffer quietly. He was definitely too proud to scream or beg for help, but he wouldn’t just cower and tremble. He would fight back with all his might until his adversary was just as battered as him;  _an eye for an eye_ , as he always said.

He wondered whether what he was witnessing was a memory – whether L had regressed to an early stage of his life, when he hadn’t been the force of nature that was the world’s greatest detective. It would have been hard to imagine L as a small defenseless child if Light hadn’t seen what he was seeing right now, but now the image was almost alarmingly clear in his head; a pale skinny boy with a shock of wild black hair and wide black eyes, cowering in a corner or hiding behind furniture as he witnessed god-only-knew what horrors were taking place right in front of him.

And despite how angry or bitter Light felt because of the way L had been treating him recently, he couldn’t take this sight for much longer. It was pitiful and disturbing and  _wrong_  and Light had to do something –  _anything_ – to put an end to it.

He stood up from the chair he had been sitting on while L had been sleeping and set aside the files he had been examining to approach the sleeping detective.

“Ryuzaki?”

It didn’t seem like he had heard him, so Light shook his shoulder. “Ryuzaki, wake up.”

L’s eyelids didn’t flutter as much as snapped open; his obsidian eyes instantly vigilant and aware instead of hazy and confused.

It took only a moment for him to realize where he was and what had happened and at once his arms, which had been wrapped tightly around his knees, slackened and his crumpled forehead smoothed out. The transformation from scared boy to the stoic and expressionless detective Light knew was so fast and irrevocable that Light almost started to doubt whether he had actually seen him curled up in the fetal position and shaking like a leaf or if he had just imagined the whole thing. The only proof to the opposite was the thin line of red trailing down L’s chin from his mouth – evidence to the previous hard biting on his tongue.

“Light-kun?” said L in his usual monotonous voice.

“...Yes?” For some reason, Light felt nervous and uncomfortable, as if  _he_ had been the one caught having a violent flash-back from some deeply traumatic event from his childhood. Still, he felt like he had witnessed something deeply personal and out of bounds and he kind of expected to be punished for it – or at the very least have his percentage rise even more.

“I wish to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Light straightened up. “Do you want me to help-”

L ignored him and stood up from the bed on his own. Then he walked past Light on steady legs and Light, somewhat baffled, followed the detective before the chain had a chance to become taut and yank at his handcuffed wrist.

L entered the bathroom casually and Light watched him with concerned and curious eyes as he calmly knelt in front of the toilet and threw up the contents of his stomach.

Light for a moment felt indecisive – certain that he should be  _doing_ something to help or comfort him, but unsure as to what he could possibly do to make this better. In the end, he approached the kneeling L as he was heaving in the toilet bowl and with tentative hands held back his wayward hair to keep them away from his face and the steady stream of vomit shooting from his mouth. The gagging sounds and the sour acidic smell of it was almost too much to bear, but Light stayed there until L was finally done and flushed the toilet.

They remained like that for a few moments, L still knelt in front of the toilet and Light still holding back his hair, even though there was no longer any need for it. The silence was heavy and stifling around them, but neither seemed eager to break it.

After a little while, though, Light couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his voice simply inquiring instead of soft and comforting – L would resent him if he treated him with kid’s gloves.

“I’m fine,” said L simply and Light didn’t need to read minds to know that this was a big fat lie. He was shaking and his complexion was so pallid he looked like an animated corpse.

“Can I do something to help?” he said.

A small pause. “Can Light-kun help me stand so that I can rinse my mouth and brush my teeth?”

“Yes, of course.”

L stood on shaky legs and Light stood as well, wrapping his arm around his waist. He supported him as he washed his mouth and then he helped him back to the bedroom.

“Would you like to eat anything?” he asked on the way. “You are still quite weak.”

L shook his head. “No, that’s alright. I doubt my stomach would be able to handle anything more solid than water at the moment.”

Light wanted to argue, but knew better than to oppose the stubborn detective.

As soon as L was under the covers, he asked Light to bring him his laptop.

Light scowled. “You can’t work right now. You should be resting.”

L shot him a withering look. “I’m not in my deathbed, Light-kun. And I don’t want to rest right now.”

“You  _never_  want to rest,” countered Light, frustrated. “Ryuzaki, you’re going to collapse one of these days unless you start caring about your well-being at least half as much as you care about the case.”

“Light-kun is being unreasonable. I am perfectly fine.”

Light huffed.  _“Unreasonable?_ Just because I’m saying you should get some rest to restore your strength?”

“Yes. Like I said, I am perfectly-”

“Yeah,  _fine_ , I heard you,” interrupted Light scathingly. “But it’s obvious that you are not, so I am not going to take seriously any word that comes out of your mouth. You’re clearly not on your right mind-”

 _“Excuse me?”_  For the first time since they were chained together, Light saw L’s eyes flash angrily and he thought he might have overstepped some line. “Now you’re doubting my state of mind, as well as my health?”

L discarding the third person address was a little unsettling - and so was his exceptionally icy tone - but Light held his ground. “Ryuzaki, this is the first time you slept in twenty days for more than three consecutive hours.  _Of course_  I am doubting your state of mind under these circumstances!  _No one_ can function properly like this, not even the great L.”

“You can watch me-”

Light stopped whatever he was going to say by slapping him right in the face. L froze for a few moments with his hair obscuring his face, so that Light couldn’t see his expression, but he had a feeling it was quite menacing. “What was that?” said the detective in a deceptively calm voice, bringing his hand to his aching cheek.

“Shut  _the fuck_  up,” spat Light, having reached his limit. “I’ve had enough of this. You are either going to rest on your own volition,  _or_ I’m going to force-feed you the rest of that cake and let the sleeping pills knock you out. Your choice.”

Silence for a few moments. Then... “Thirty-five percent, Light-kun.”

“Whether it is ninety percent or zero point one percent, I know you’re still going to suspect me no matter what I do, so, if you’re thinking I’m going to relent because of some percentage you just made up, I suggest you think again.”

L finally peeked under his bangs and his gaze was just as withering as he had imagined it would be. And yet, he had no power over the situation. He should be able to see that Light wasn’t bluffing and he was still too weak to hope to overpower him. Even if he were to call Watari, there was a big chance that the old man was going to take Light’s side on this quarrel. So, with a petulant huff, he turned on his side so that his back was turned towards Light and threw the covers over his head.

Light let out a long exhausted sigh. He had always thought he would have a family when he grew up – it  _was_  what was expected from him, after all – but if his kids were going to end up acting half as childishly as L, he might have to pass. He couldn’t believe he was actually starting to miss the cold indifference with which L had been treating him lately.

Feeling too tired to work, he decided to follow L’s example and got into bed as well. Miraculously, the detective was already asleep by now.

Light had just closed his eyes when his stomach suddenly growled in protest. He had forgotten he hadn’t eaten anything today. He thought of his lunch – which was still in the microwave oven – longingly, but he was about as eager to wake L up again so that he could go to the kitchen as an exhausted father who had just managed to put his crying baby to sleep at 3 a.m. Which was to say,  _no way in hell_.

 _Well,_ he thought hazily as sleep started to weigh down on him as well,  _at least I got to slap him in the face._

That was a nice thought to fall asleep on.

* * *

_October 1 st, 2004_

“Ryuzaki, sorry to catch you so unmotivated, but come over here for a moment.”

The detective, who had been moping in his chair rather melodramatically, swiveled around without much enthusiasm and rolled his chair next to Light.

“Take a good look at this,” said Light, bringing L’s attention to the computer screen. “It leans, doesn’t it?”

“Huh?” L seemed reluctantly intrigued.

Light showed L all the data he had accumulated and the graphs he had prepared about the suspicious rise of Yotsuba’s stocks and its connection to some very convenient deaths by heart-attack.

“What do you think?” he asked the detective, who looked at the data with an attentive expression, which hadn’t graced his face for quite some time now. “I can only think that Kira is taking Yotsuba’s side.”

“Yes, but if that’s so, then this Kira’s true motive is not the judgment of criminals.”

“Yes, it is possible that he’s using criminal deaths to camouflage killings for profit.” Which was disappointing, to say the least. Light did not condone Kira’s actions, but at least he used to appreciate his strong moral code.

He gave L a small self-satisfied smile. “So, how is that? Motivated a little?”

The detective answered with a small smile of his own. “Yes, you could say that. Good job, Light-kun.”

His huge black eyes looked alive for the first time in forever, but there was something else in there too. Something like... respect? Light couldn’t tell for certain, but it made his spirits soar.

Finally, he’d been able to drag L out of his wallowing in self-pity.

Finally, he managed to get his undivided attention and impress him.

 _Finally,_  they could work like a team again, taking on the world together and bringing Kira to justice.

Against the two of them, Kira didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

_October 25 th, 2004_

Watari was just bringing in even more sweets when L started devising the plan to capture Higuchi.

“We will create a situation where Higuchi will not be able to pass on his power and will be forced to show us how he carries out the killings.”

“How will we do that?” asked Light.

“We’ll use Sakura TV to get Higuchi’s attention.”

“A surprise show!” Matsuda piped up, rather excitedly.

“What’s that?” asked Misa, puzzled.

“Demegawa currently airs ‘The Kira Special’,” explained L, “and we’ll have a three-hour special where it will claim to reveal the identity of Kira at the end of the show.”

“Do you think anyone will believe that?” said Matsuda, dubious. “This is Sakura TV we’re talking about. Besides, we don’t know if Higuchi will be watching it at that moment.”

“Having Namikawa contact him and say, ‘Higuchi, this is bad, turn on the TV right now,’ over the phone will be good enough.” Light’s brain was quick to catch on to L’s thought process. “And then, if the person on the show is someone Higuchi thinks has a good chance of knowing his identity as Kira, he’ll believe it.”

“I get it!” said Matsuda. “You’re going to use Aiber! You’re going to reveal he’s actually a spy!”

“That’s wrong. We won’t be using Aiber,” said L calmly, popping one of the sweets on the tray into his mouth. “When Higuchi watches that show, we can’t use someone who he thinks will be hard to kill. In other words, we’ll need a person whose name can be found easily.”

Matsuda was still not getting the hint. “There isn’t a person like that, right?”

Light, whose brain was working on the same wavelength as L’s, decided to help him along. “It has to be Matsuda-san.”

“Matsu?!” exclaimed Misa just as Matsuda’s jaw dropped open.

“So, it’s Matsuda,” agreed Soichiro solemnly.

Light took it a bit further. “Higuchi will think that Matsuda-san was eavesdropping and, if a manager that was supposed to be dead tries to reveal everything, he will believe it.”

“That’s right,” agreed L, examining a pastry thoughtfully as he put the final touches to his plan. “We’ll have Sakura TV use the tinted glass and distorted microphone. Higuchi should be able to know from the silhouette that it’s manager Matsui. Finally, the tinted glass will be knocked down, revealing Matsuda.”

“Wow! That sounds interesting!” said Misa excitedly.

“And then we’ll have them say they will reveal Kira’s full name.”

“In this situation,” Light picked up where L left off, “Higuchi will be in a real hurry to know the name of Matsuda. Higuchi can only take this path of action.”

“And then he will try to kill him,” L finished his thought, slightly squeezing the pastry in his hand. “The only problem with this plan is that, if Higuchi is able to kill like the Second Kira just by seeing a person’s face, Matsuda-san will die.” He squeezed the pastry again more forcefully, as if to further illustrate his point, which Matsuda watched with horror.

“Since Matsuda is still alive and Higuchi wants Misa, he probably doesn’t have that power,” Light supplied helpfully in order to reassure the terrified man.

“We’ll put this plan into motion if the killings of criminals cease,” L concluded. “We’ll wait two or three days to determine that. Please let Matsuda-san decide in the meantime whether or not we can go ahead with this plan.”

Matsuda looked torn for a few more moments, but, predictably, he eventually bunched his fists in determination and took a few decisive steps forward. “You won’t need two to three days. Please go ahead with the plan.”

Light was the only one who noticed the slight curving of L’s lips and it was hard not to give a smile of his own. This plan was a masterpiece – the collective effort of both their brains. Light had had many opportunities in the past to evaluate L’s analytical genius, but on some occasions like this one he had the chance to appreciate his strategic creativity as well, which rivaled only his own. Despite his million flaws, he had a truly beautiful brain, and so complementary to his own.

If only the detective would forget his paranoid suspicions long enough to realize that, if they worked together like this, they could destroy countless criminal organizations all over the world, continuing Kira’s work from a more respective and morally correct angle. They could do  _so much_  together, if L would just...  _trust_  him. 

Light told himself that, after they caught Higuchi and determined Kira’s way of killing, L would finally see sense and realize just what they could do if they were allies instead of enemies. However, he knew better than that and this knowledge made his excitement turn sour. Because he knew, even after the case was closed and Light’s name was cleared, L would just pack up and leave Japan, cutting ties with everyone he’d had to reveal his face to, so as to remain anonymous and unapproachable. As for Light, he would go back to his boring old life, dealing with boring stupid people and pretending he was content with it.

It wasn’t  _fair_  – to get a taste of this exciting lifestyle and then kissing it goodbye to pursue a hopeless boring career as a mere police detective, chasing common criminals.

It just... sucked.

* * *

_October 28 th, 2004_

The plan played out with scary accuracy. Higuchi acted exactly as they predicted. It had been a little scary when they realized he had gotten the power to kill with just a face, but even that couldn’t save him now, as he was cornered by a dozen police cars and L’s helicopter and had Watari pointing his rifle at him.

It was over. Even though they still hadn’t determined the way Kira killed his victims, Higuchi would soon have to spill if he wanted a mere one shot in a million not to be executed for his crimes.

His father, Mogi and Aizawa approached Higuchi’s vehicle and, after commanding him to get out of the car, they promptly handcuffed and blindfolded him before they placed a head-set on his head so that L could speak with him.

“Higuchi, how have you been killing?” asked the detective without preamble. “Speak up.”

The man was obviously reluctant to say anything.

“If you won’t talk, we’ll do what it takes to make you,” threatened L. If Higuchi were able to see the wild-haired, barefoot detective pour heavily sugared tea in his cup from a thermos, holding both of them in his usual strange manner, he probably wouldn’t have taken him seriously. But he could only hear his voice, and L’s deep voice was serious and commanding, radiating authority, so after a resigned sigh, he replied.

“With a notebook.”

“Notebook?” A tone of disbelief crept in L’s usually neutral voice.

“You probably won’t believe it, but it’s a notebook that kills the person of which you know the face and write the name of in it.”

...This was absolutely ludicrous.

A notebook? Kira was terrorizing the world with the use of murderous school supplies? This had to be a joke...

...And yet, the word  _notebook_  had fired up something in his brain – only for a moment, but it was a little... strange. It was like a weird case of deja-vu; like a memory was struggling to surface but he couldn’t hold onto it long enough to determine what it was.

“Yagami-san,” said L.

“Yes,” replied Soichiro, “it was in Higuchi’s bag. There are names written in here, but... I don’t see anything odd about it...” A pause. Then...

“AAAAAAH!”

Hearing his father scream in horror was something Light had never thought he would experience in his lifetime and it made the hairs on his nape rise.

“What is it, Yagami-san?”

“A monster!” Light had never heard his father so shook up.

“Calm down, please,” said L, composed as ever. “Yagami-san, you are not armed at the moment.”

“R- Right...”

“Are you okay, chief?” asked Mogi with a worried voice.

“M- Mogi, can’t you see that?!”

“Chief, you must be tired...”

A moment later, the ever-stoic Mogi was screaming his head off as well.

“What’s wrong, Mogi-san?” asked Light, thoroughly confused.

“Looks like only those who touched the notebook can see it... A monster!”

A pause followed as that piece of information was processed. “Bring that notebook to the helicopter please,” ordered L eventually.

Mogi complied with the command and approached the helicopter holding something slick and black in his hands. Light’s heart started beating faster with anticipation. He convinced himself it was because they’d be able to determine Kira’s murder weapon.

“L, here it is,” said Mogi and gave the notebook to the detective.

L picked up the black notebook in his odd way and then turned his gaze towards the spot Soichiro and Mogi had been looking at while screaming. He stilled. His usually expressionless face was frozen with shock. “A Shinigami?” he whispered with awe. “It really... exists...”

Light couldn’t take it anymore – hearing about monsters and gods of death and not being able to see them.

“Ryuzaki, let me touch it too!” L didn’t seem like he had heard him, so he grabbed the notebook from the distracted detective’s hands.

He screamed.

It felt like his head was going to explode, images and sounds of another life forcefully invading his brain and flooding it overwhelmingly, drowning out everything else. Resurfacing memories of killing and plotting, and more killing and more plotting, and plotting to kill... Notebooks, apples, Shinigami, death, L, justice, Kira...

_Kira..._

_I am... Kira!_

And suddenly his brain stopped reeling as the world tilted on its axis – or rather properly realigned itself – and he stopped screaming. Everything was back in its place, everything was how it was supposed to be.

Everything went according to plan. 

_I won._

“Are you alright?” L’s voice brought him back to the present, and in it he could find traces of concern and wariness. “Anyone would be shocked by that monster.”

Light suddenly had to fight really hard to quell the laughter that bubbled up inside him and wanted to erupt from his mouth.

_You think I’m scared, L?_ _I’ve never felt more sure of myself in my entire life._

_Everything worked out the way I wanted it, and it will continue to do so until you’re dead._

“Ryuzaki...” he said in a low voice that would suit someone who went through shock but was trying to be calm.

“Yes?”

Light opened the notebook and flipped through the pages. God, how much he missed this thing – feeling the power of life and death right in his fingertips, feeling the power of a  _god_. He couldn’t wait to grab a pen and pick up where he left off.

But that had to wait. First, he needed to cement his memories in his brain before they were ripped away from him, turning him back into that weak, pathetic boy he’d been before he became a god.

“I’ll compare the names written here with the names of the victims first.”

“...Okay,” said L hesitantly. “Well... that’s okay.” Light didn’t think he had ever heard him sound so unsure and it made him feel impossibly giddy.

_Oh, you poor thing. You have no idea what you got yourself involved in. Tossed into a world where Shinigami exist and use notebooks to kill, you feel lost and unprepared._

_But don’t worry, my dear friend. Your troubles will be over soon._

However, first things first, he had to kill Higuchi and claim back ownership of the notebook without letting go of the Death Note. It was tricky, but L was still reeling from all the revelations, so this was the best moment for him to act.

He inconspicuously pulled the knob on his watch four times and the secret compartment slid open, revealing a scrap of the notebook’s pages and a needle. He carefully pricked his finger and, with the blood, he scribbled Higuchi’s name.

Now, he only had to hold on to the Death Note for forty seconds, so that the ownership would transfer to him.

In order to buy time, he started speaking to L. “This notebook... If we’d have it analyzed, do you think we might find something?”

“Yagami-kun, that’s unlike you.” Light was surprised by the fact that he reverted to calling him by his last name. “That thing is way beyond science.”

Light chuckled. “Good point.”

He could feel L’s piercing gaze directed at the back of his head, but he ignored it.

_Just a few more seconds..._

Light breathed again when, suddenly, Higuchi seized in pain.

“What is it?” he shouted with the appropriate confusion. “What’s happening?”

Higuchi sunk to his knees, screaming in pain.

“What are you doing, father?! If Higuchi dies here...”

“No way... but... he’s already...”

_Yes. He’s dead._

_You’re next, L._

It was funny. When he had devised his plan, one of his worries was that his weaker, non-Kira self might get attached to L and that this would carry over to him after he reclaimed his lost memories. Light remembered what he was like before he got the Death Note; a bored, depressed boy, chained down by useless morals in a reality he hated; brilliant, but also inexperienced, lonely and pathetically desperate for something that would break the painfully dull monotony of everyday life. So it made sense that, after meeting someone who shared his intellect, he would latch onto that person like a lifeline, trying to form a connection with someone he could  _really_  communicate.

Sadly, his weak self acted exactly like he’d predicted and had hopelessly tried to befriend the unapproachable detective.

Thankfully, though, L himself dag his own grave by being so difficult and mistrustful that even non-Kira Light had had some spiteful fantasies of killing him as well. Anger was not a sentiment Light normally approved of – there was no sentiment he approved of actually, except the passion for justice – but in this case it worked in his favor.

_It’s really a shame, Ryuzaki. If you had played your cards right, you might have stood a chance._

_But now..._

_Now you’re already dead. You just don’t know it yet._

* * *

_November 5 th, 2004_

“What a terrible rainstorm.”

“It’s your fault. You were the one standing outside in the rain.”

He was barely maintaining an only slightly annoyed tone. He was cold and dripping wet and the towel was nowhere near enough to dry him. What he really needed was a long hot bath to warm and relax him.

_What was that man thinking, standing on the roof in the middle of a rainstorm?_

There was something seriously wrong with him.

Well, at least he got to watch him look so pathetic – sad and soaked to the bone, talking nonsense about bells and weddings and lies. It was satisfying to watch him look so defeated, but also a little disappointing. L was supposed to be his arch-enemy, cold and ruthless and unyielding; he wasn’t supposed to look like a kicked puppy.

He just wasn’t acting like himself. He wondered briefly whether he was trying to make Light pity him so that he wouldn’t kill him, but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. L was as prideful as him and he would never sink so low... Probably. You could really never know with L.

“That’s true,” said L quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing L apologize was a little disconcerting, but he didn’t say anything. At least until he felt a cold hand grab his foot without warning.

“What are you doing, Ryuzaki?” he asked, thoroughly creeped out.

“I thought I’d give you a hand,” said L, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll help you dry yourself.”

“No, thanks, you don’t need to do that,” said Light, more than a little unnerved. He must have gone insane. Apparently, even a great mind like L’s could crack under so much pressure.

“I’m going to give you a massage, too,” insisted L. “It’s the least that I can do, and I’m also pretty good at it.”

Light sighed.  _I should just give him what he wants. He’s going to be dead soon enough after all. If his last wish is to dry my feet, then he can knock himself out for all I care._  “Do what you want,” he said in a resigned tone.

“Alright,” said L and got to work.

It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wasn’t entirely off-putting either. Besides, watching L kneel in front of him, looking so docile and submissive, was a little mollifying. Maybe even a little endearing.

 _Is there a chance L had a change of heart? That perhaps he has now realized that_ this _is his rightful place?_

It was a tempting thought. Having someone of L’s caliber serve him and his cause was a very appealing scenario.

It was also very  _unlikely_.

L was, admittedly, not doing a very good job of drying his feet. Any progress he had made on his endeavor was negated by his own drenched hair, which was dripping cold water drops on his foot.

Light sighed inwardly and leaned forward to dry L’s bangs with his own towel. “You’re still wet,” he said – surprisingly not annoyed, but more like fondly exasperated.

“I’m sorry,” said L quietly, his eyes downcast, and continued drying his feet.

“I’m sad,” he said softly when he was done.

“Eh?” Never in a million years did Light expect him to say something like that. The fact that the stoic and seemingly emotionless detective was admitting being  _sad_  of all things was simply absurd.

What was even more astonishing was the sad little smile L gave him in response. “You’ll understand soon.”

Light simply stared at him. He’d never seen L look so human before – while he was awake, at least. The sight tagged something inside him, something surprisingly soft and tender.

For the very first time, Light felt sympathy for his enemy.

It made sense, of course. He was, after all, a benevolent and understanding god and, despite the fact that he had learned to be unyielding and even heartless at times to do what needed to be done in order to create a better future for everyone, he still cared for his subjects – even the ones that had defied him.

_It is a shame to waste a brilliant mind like yours._

He had no choice, though. L wasn’t just anyone. L was the only person in the whole world who was capable of destroying Light’s dream of a perfect crime-free world. He couldn’t risk it.

_(There has to be another way.)_

That thought was nothing but a whisper, the small pleading voice of a Light without his memories of the Death Note – a Light that, until this moment, had been silent and submissive, almost dormant.

On a different occasion, Light might have tried to quell it with force, but at this moment he felt generous enough to be patient and understanding even of this weak voice.

_I could spare him. But only if he accepts Kira and his new world-order._

_(He’d never do that. Not in a million years.)_

_Then, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. He has to die._

L’s phone suddenly rang and disrupted the strange moment of understanding between the two enemies.

“Hello?” He listened for a few moments. “I understand. I will be there soon.”

He ended the call and then turned towards Light. “Why don’t we go, Light-kun? Things might turn out well, after all.” And he set off towards the elevator.

Light didn’t like this. And he didn’t particularly trust L’s statement that  _‘things might turn out well’_. Whatever was going to happen, Light was sure it was big. And that meant L’s death was only moments away.

 _It really is a shame,_  he thought as he stood to follow the detective.  _But it’s necessary._

_Don’t worry, my friend. Your death will pave the way for the creation of a brand new world without evil. A world that I will rule as god._

He let his lips stretch into a grin as the excitement of finally defeating his nemesis took hold and dissolved the last traces of sympathy.

_At last, this drawn-out battle will come to an end._

_At last, I will see you fall._


	2. Premise Part 2 - Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying that I'm so, so sorry this took so long to update. I swear though that I wasn't slacking off during that time. I was actually working really hard on my fics - especially this one. I've made like, what, six drafts of this particular chapter? And I've rewritten some individual scenes even more times than that. I don't think I've ever put so much effort into a single chapter before. It was just so difficult to write. Getting Light's voice right is a struggle in itself, especially when I'm making him do something so OOC as falling in love, heh. Now add to the mix the fact that the person he's supposed to fall in love with is currently dead and I think you'll understand why I've had trouble with this chapter. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm still not certain that it's good enough, but if I don't post it now as it is, I might never post it at all, so here it is. 15,000+ words of pure angst. Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> I'd also like to remind you in case you've forgotten (it's been months, so I suppose you probably have) that the italics in brackets are the voice which Light identified as the voice of non-Kira Light. It will come up a lot, so keep it in mind.

_November 5 th, 2004_

It was only at eleven thirty that Light finally managed to excuse himself to his room. Because of the chaos that ensued L’s death and the need to tie up loose ends, Light hadn’t had the chance to properly relish his victory. But now...

Knowing that the surveillance cameras wouldn’t be able to capture his face at this angle, he finally let his lips curl into a satisfied, triumphant grin that made the muscles on his face ache with its broadness.

_I won._

Oh, victory was too sweet, making his blood sing in his veins and his muscles thrum with excited energy. His stomach ached with the need to let out the laughter that was bubbling up inside him but, alas, he had to restrain himself. He felt powerful, invincible, larger than life – like he was standing on top of the world.

In a sense, he was. Because now that the final threat to his fledging utopia was annihilated, Kira was finally the indisputable victor. Godhood had never been so attainable, his dream world so within his grasp.

But, even though that could have been more than reason enough to rejoice, there was something else making his victory even sweeter, and he’d only realized it now that he was back in this room.

It wasn’t just the world’s greatest detective and Kira’s nemesis that was gone. It was also his roommate that was once and for all out of the picture – his impossibly _annoying_ roommate who delighted in torturing him. And that meant...

No more hearing of accusations and percentages.

No more humoring the spoilt detective and his selfish demands.

No more putting up with his various annoying quirks and habits.

But most importantly...

_No more sleep deprivation._

Light stripped out of his clothes to put on his pajamas and then he plopped back on the bed, leaving out a sigh of relief and contentment as he buried himself under the covers and closed his eyes.

 _Silence_.

No slurping tea. No rustling sounds of candy wrappers. And, _god_ , none of that _incessant typing_ that made him want to climb up the wall from frustration.

Oh, the sound of silence was too sweet. He would sleep like a baby tonight.

* * *

_November 6 th, 2004_

Six hours later, Light was still wide awake.

At this point, he couldn’t even blame it on the adrenaline rush that had made him feel jittery and excited before. That had faded hours ago and now fatigue was weighing down on his body and mind. And yet, sleep was still as elusive as it had been then, his brain still refusing to flip the off-switch.

It took him a while to figure out why his body and mind couldn’t just relax and let his exhaustion drag him to unconsciousness. It was the eerie, ominous silence that filled every inch of the dark empty room, making him feel like he was trapped in a soundproof bubble, or a tomb buried deep underground where no sound could reach. The only sounds breaking it were the ticking of the clock, the rustle of the bed sheets every time he shifted and the sound of his own heartbeat, which amplified tenfold in the heavy suffocating silence, resounding like gunshots.

_(This room does feel a little like a tomb without him. Dark and empty and lifeless. So quiet and still like it exists out of time...)_

It made sense, of course. After three whole months of being constantly in the presence of someone else, it was to be expected to feel uneasy and slightly off-kilter in their absence. And it was understandable that, after three months of putting up with the insomniac detective and the incessant noise, he had gotten used to it and now he found it hard to sleep without it. It was a natural consequence and nothing to worry about. He just had to wait until he got used to being alone again.

And even if he didn’t, that would be manageable as well. He had already decided he would move in with Misa as soon as possible. Her eyes were too useful, so he had to make sure she was happy and docile and always willing to help him out in every way she could. So, with Misa around, the bedroom they would share wouldn’t feel so empty.

Yes, this problem was, thankfully, solvable.

_(Do you really think Misa could replace him?)_

Now, though, Light could only stare with dried-out, bloodshot eyes at the ceiling, watching it turn from a dark – almost black – grey to the pale bluish hue of early morning. He felt restless and on edge, his consciousness squirming and grunting under the weight of this stifling quiet; he had to get out of there before it crushed him completely.

He immediately stood from the bed and changed into something warm. Even the streets would be relatively quiet and deserted at six in the morning, but it would still be preferable to this stifling room. Not to mention that, with all the surveillance cameras on, he hadn’t had a chance to check out Rem’s notebook. It was still in the back pocket of the pants he had been wearing yesterday, so he pulled them back on now.

One hour later, he was seated at a cozy cafe that hadn’t officially opened up, but with a few smooth words and dazzling smiles the blushing employee had let him inside and even brought him a cappuccino – her name and number scribbled on the cup with a black marker.

There, he finally took the notebook out of his pocket and looked at the two last names written on it. The one before last was _Quillsh Wammy,_ which had to be Watari’s name, since he had been killed first. As for the other...

Light stared at the two words in disbelief for a few moments. Then he dissolved into hysterical laughter, giving the waitress a slight scare.

 _You bastard,_ he thought, grudgingly impressed by his audacity. _Hiding in plain sight, were you?_

He traced the two words with his fingers.

_L Lawliet._

Such a simple thing for him to have wasted so much time to attain. Fifty days of confinement, and then three months of being chained to the most infuriating person on the planet.

Now he finally had these two cursed words written on a Death Note. It was really hard to feel particularly proud of this achievement when he was so damn tired.

_(You had always been L to me.)_

* * *

_November 15 th, 2004_

Two weeks later, Light still hadn’t managed to get proper sleep.

He had tried everything. He had tried to put on some music to fill the silence, nature sounds, he had even downloaded a five-hour audio file with the sound of typing to fool his brain that L was still around. Unfortunately, his brain was much too smart to be fooled by such tricks.

_(Or maybe it isn’t the noise that I am-)_

He was exhausted. He must look like a sight too, pale and with eye bags to rival L’s. His brain worked at less than half its usual capacity and all his muscles ached for some rest. He would have to take drastic measures. He’d never tried taking sleeping pills before, but he would probably have to resort to that now. If that didn’t work, then maybe he would have to take up L’s sugary diet to keep his brain from turning to complete mush from the lack of sleep.

The rest of the task force was currently discussing something and it sounded somewhat important – something about the NPA and about L’s death – but his mind couldn’t really process it at the moment. He was too busy trying to retrieve all the data that Watari had deleted with his last breath and reconstructing the program L used to scramble his voice. Normally, he would be able to do these things _and_ participate in the conversation effortlessly, but he could barely function at the moment, much less multitask.

He jumped a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder; normally it wouldn’t be that easy for someone to sneak up on him. He turned around and saw his father, whose eyebrows were knitted together in concern.

“Light? I’ve called your name three times. Are you alright?”

Light exhaled deeply. “Yes, I’m fine, dad. I just... haven’t been sleeping well lately. After...” He trailed off, eyes downcast.

Soichiro nodded solemnly. “That is understandable. He was your friend, after all.”

“Yes...” said Light, with a small melancholic smile. “Ryuzaki was a good friend.”

_(He was a terrible friend, but-)_

“If you need anyone to talk to...”

Light nodded. “I know.”

Soichiro sighed and pointed at the computer. “How is it going?”

“Good,” said Light turning back to the monitors. “I think I will be able to retrieve all the data that was deleted by today.”

Soichiro smiled proudly at him. “You’ve done well. You will make a great L.”

Light blinked. He had missed this development. “What?”

His father put his hand on his shoulder. “We talked about it and we decided that you are the best candidate to take over L’s position. Even L had thought so.” His brow furrowed. “If you want it, of course.”

“Oh.” How convenient.

... _Too_ convenient. He hadn’t even had to orchestrate it himself.

_It’s too easy without L here._

He pretended to think about it. “I’m very honored that you would trust my abilities this much, but I don’t know if I want to... After what happened with Ryuzaki and Watari...”

“We know we ask much of you. Being L is dangerous. Believe me, I don't like this any more than you do. If I could have my way, I'd keep you as far away from all of this as possible. But you are the only one fit for that position.”

“I see.” Light sighed. “Alright, I’ll do it. But I won’t do anything too risky like the things Ryuzaki did just to follow a lead.”

“Yes, that might be best.” Soichiro nodded, and then he smiled at him. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Light watched his father join the rest of the team again and then turned back to his computer. He expected to feel elated with this great victory. Instead, he only felt a mild satisfaction. It was simply frustrating how underwhelming this victory was. He was now both Kira and L. It meant he had won once and for all. He could have the police and the task force run around in circles forever as he carried out his judgments undisturbed. He was all but declared the god of the New World.

But it had come too easy. With L around, he had had to fight tooth and nail just to get the smallest advantage over the detective. Now, the whole world was offered to him in a silver platter; he didn’t even have to ask for it.

He shook these thoughts out of his mind. It didn’t matter how he felt. He was doing this for the world, not for his own amusement. And he still had lots of work to do in order to bring his perfect new world to life.

He tried to focus again on the task at hand, but his brain was not cooperating. His mind was scattered all over the place.

Perhaps this was why he was taken aback when he turned to look at the chair next to his out of habit and didn’t find L perched on top of it, his eyes glued to the monitors and his thumb tracing his lower lip as he processed the information. Light stared at the empty seat quizzically for a few moments, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him with a strange numbness clouding his brain, before he managed to snap out of it.

Light shook his head. This lack of sleep couldn’t go on for much longer – that much was obvious.

* * *

_January 12 th, 2005_

Light put his pen down, even though the professor was still talking. Why was he even bothering taking notes? He knew more about this class than the teacher himself.

 _This is pointless_ , he thought.

Light eventually had to tune the professor out. All of a sudden, he was wishing for that soul-crashing silence that had plagued his nights the first month after L’s defeat. Even that suffocating quiet was preferable to this _meaningless_ white noise. He might even miss the exhaustion from the sleep deprivation from before he started taking sleeping pills; at least then he would be too tired to process just how bored he was.

He tapped his pen on the desk repetitively, feeling restless and agitated, without having anything to spend all this pent-up energy on. He was fucking Kira, the god of the new world order and savior of the innocent, and he was trapped in a fucking classroom, _again_. It was so frustrating to waste all this time for no reason at all, and yet he could think of no alternative. Even if he were to skip class today, what else could he do to pass the time?

Even judging criminals had gotten old after all this time. Just scribbling the names of – evil, to be sure – but mostly _inconsequential_ people he didn’t particularly care for, with the only evidence that he was actually making a difference being the announcement on the TV news of the names of the criminals that had been judged and of the _slight_ drop of the crime-rate... Well, it wasn’t particularly exciting. At the moment, he usually left Misa to deal with judging; even _she_ couldn’t screw up something as easy as that.

And what else was there to do? Toying with the police wasn’t fun anymore now that he was L. They were all either complete idiots or just smart enough to realize that there was no point going up against Kira at all. Without L to guide them they were all fucking useless, running around aimlessly like headless cocks, and it just made dealing with them feel like an insult to his intellect.

Really, if he thought about it, it seemed like staying here – keeping up the “just your typical straight-A student” facade – was probably the best employment for his time.

 _How pathetic_.

As the professor droned on and on about stuff Light would be able to reiterate in his sleep, his eyes drifted to the windows that lined the left wall of the lecture hall. All he could see was a clear blue sky and the tops of the other buildings on campus, their colors washed out by the harsh daylight. It was almost as boring a sight as the interior of the large hall. Light couldn’t help but recall that fateful day more than a year ago when he had also been staring out the window, wishing he were anywhere else but in that stuffy classroom. And, like his prayers had been answered, a black notebook dropped from the sky and turned his life upside down.

It had made him feel  _alive_ again. Fully awake for the very first time. He had found a mission, a _purpose_ , a reason to live.

And then he had an enemy. A _worthy_ enemy. An _equal_.

How novel. How _refreshing_.

And now he was gone. Defeated, once and for all. Disappointing, to be honest.

It seemed like the only time he ever felt truly alive was when he’d been fighting against L. At the time he’d considered those exhausting mind games they used to play extremely frustrating and inconvenient. Now he found he missed them. He had had to constantly think on his feet, plan every step of the way, reach the very limits of his own mental capabilities to remain just one step ahead. And he had been _good_ at it. He had never known just what he was capable of, how far he could go, how driven and determined he could be when faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles. He’d never had reason to test his own limits.

But with L, he had been forced, not only to reach them, but to break through them and go even further than he ever thought he could. He was stronger than ever… and now he had no opponent to use his refined skills against. Now he just had to be smarter than the average police detective, which was _so_ beneath his level.

Maybe he had been too hasty in killing him. Maybe he should have kept him around a little longer and toy with him. 

He shook his head.

What was he thinking? L had been too formidable an opponent to just keep around for entertainment. There would have been no telling when he’d manage to turn the tables against him and then all would have been lost.

_(But that’s it, isn’t it? If he hadn’t been so bold and unpredictable, Kira’s ascend to power wouldn’t have been half as exciting. It was all thanks to him that this has been such an extraordinary journey.)_

Light sighed. Even if that were true, it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t have been worth the risk. Nothing was worth putting his brand new world without evil in jeopardy.

And it was too late now to lament what was and what could have been, anyway. What’s done is done. Now he only had to think about the present and the future; a future so bright and glorious that it would be worth it all – all the hardships, the frustration, the boredom. But...

It was just that it was taking _so damn long_ to get rid of all the criminals. He knew he would finally be happy when his utopia came to life, when he would be faced with the challenge of ruling a crime-free world as god. It was his destiny, his purpose, his reason for living. It would be absolutely perfect – the best reward for all of the hardships he went through to make it possible. However, it would be years before that would happen. There were just too many evil people in this world, and there were no shortcuts. The Death Note’s powers were finite. And until he could finally get his rightful place as ruler of a perfect world, he would have to find a way to survive in this only slightly-less-rotten-than-before world.

But it was getting harder and harder each day just to get out of bed each morning, only to repeat the same damn routine every single day. Wake up. Go to class. Go home. Work as L with the task force. Judge criminals. Entertain Misa. Go to sleep. And then the next day do it all over again in a cruel endless loop.

_How tedious._

* * *

_March 29 th, 2005_

A soft melancholic tune colored the night as long pale fingers moved over the black and white keys with practiced ease. Higher and lower notes blended together in a melodic succession, praising the beauty of the night with gentle admiration.

Light listened with a vague sort of confusion. He recognized the melody, but he couldn’t quite put a name to it. Chopin maybe? He wasn’t sure. In fact, there were many things he wasn’t sure of at the moment.

The bright moonlight bathed the bedroom in a rather cold silver glow, allowing him to see almost every detail of every object inside, but... No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t really tell what was wrong with this image; what was there that shouldn’t be, or what wasn’t there even though it should be. He couldn’t even tell which of the two was true.

“You should be working, Light-kun,” said L, while his fingers still moved over the keys without faltering one bit.

Light started a little. He hadn’t thought that the detective knew he was there. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just heard you play and-”

...Wait a moment. _That_ was what was wrong with the image. The piano.

They didn’t have a piano in their room.

“And?” inquired L. Light couldn’t really see his face from this angle. A big part of it was obscured by his long jagged bangs and the rest was hidden by thick shadows.

“And I got sidetracked.”

“Hmm...”

“I’ve never heard you play before.” 

“Yes, I haven’t played in a long time.”

“So how come you decided to play now?”

“I wanted to drown out the sound of the bells.”

“...Oh.” Yes, their sound _was_ quite distracting. And maybe a little sinister.

Strange, though, that the piano didn’t seem to drown out the sound, but it amplified it instead. The melody seemed to follow the rhythm of the bells tolling, turning from soft and melancholy to dark and ominous, like a funeral march.

The mournful sound made the hair on his arms rise and goose bumps crawled up his spine, like Death himself was watching him from the dark corners of the room with bloodthirsty eyes. Thunder rumbled and the heavy rain pattered against the windows, adding a dramatic undertone to the haunting music of the piano and the bells. It was like a scene from a horror movie and Light was suddenly feeling uneasy, even though death had been a constant presence in his life for quite some time now.

“It’s a church,” L’s soft quiet voice carried over despite the noise through some mysterious force of nature. “Maybe a wedding? Or...”

“Or what?” Light’s voice was loud, in an almost futile effort to be heard over the noise. His muscles were strung tight, his mind befuddled by some odd sense of déjà-vu, and petrified by a creeping sense of foreboding.

L didn’t respond, but the music grew softer, the notes as light as raindrops falling on the still surface of a clear lake. The bells had stopped tolling. Even the rain wasn’t falling quite as heavily, settling in a slow rhythmic pitter-patter against the glass of the windows instead.

Slowly, the mounting tension receded as well and Light breathed again. An air of deep-rooted sadness lingered though, settling over them like a cold blanket.

“You should be working,” said L again, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes, I probably should...” He knew that L was right, that he had things to do, but...

“Go on, then.”

Light tried to move from where he had been standing in the doorway and go... wherever he needed to go, but he was rooted to the spot, something undefined holding him back.

“Is there a problem, Light-kun?”

“No, I don’t think so, but...” He inhaled deeply. “Why don’t you come with me? If we work together, we will finish faster.”

L’s fingers paused for one moment. Then he started moving them over the keys again like before, picking up the melody where he left off. “I cannot.”

“Why? Two minds are better than one.”

Light still couldn’t see his face, but somehow he knew that he was smiling wryly. “I would only hold you back.”

“I suppose...” he said, though he wasn’t sure what L was talking about. “But still. I would like you to be there.”

“I don’t belong... _there_.”

“Sure you do. You are L.”

“L is just a title, Light-kun. One I lost.”

“It’s more than that,” insisted Light.

For a few moments, the only sound breaking the silence around them was the soft notes conjured by the piano. Then, in a soft whisper, “Go, Light-kun. I shall wait for you here until you are done with your work.”

Light sighed, but in the end he complied. He turned and started to leave, but after only a few steps he hesitated.

 _Don’t look back,_ whispered a voice at the back of his head.

Light knew that it was right, that he shouldn’t look back, that he should just keep on walking so that he could finish his work, but...

_Don’t look back._

_I’ll just glance once,_ reasoned Light. _It shouldn’t hurt._

_Don’t look back._

He looked back.

At that moment, thunder cracked loudly and momentarily flooded the room with bright white light. And in the light, he saw L floating above the piano, his body sagging over it, nerveless and limp like a rag-doll...

...No, he wasn’t floating. He was _hanging_. A metal chain was now tied to the ceiling, forming a silver noose around his long pale neck.

Light thought that this was the part where he was expected to scream, but he did nothing of the sort. He could only watch numbly and with a morbid sort of fascination, while the only thing he could register feeling was a vague sense of loss, a hollow forming inside his chest slowly and insidiously. The only question he could form was, where did the music come from if L wasn’t playing anymore?

He woke up very slowly, his mind sluggishly surfacing to consciousness. For a few more moments, he still wondered about L and the chain and how it all came together and what he could have done to prevent it... and it was only at that last thought that he remembered that he had already killed L, that he hadn’t used a chain but a Shinigami with a Death Note, and that the image of the detective hanging from the ceiling had most likely been a dream.

Light sighed and turned on his other side, his back facing Misa who was still sleeping peacefully. It was barely the crack of dawn and the barest traces of grey light were creeping inside through the window.

For a few minutes, he just stared blankly at the wall in front of him, the numb empty feeling from the dream lingering inside him for a little while more. Ever since he started taking sleeping pills, he’d been having all kinds of strange but also uncannily vivid dreams. Most of them featured L.

He hated them. Not so much because they were illogical and inconsistent and most of the time more than a little morbid, but mostly because so much more seemed to happen in them than during the day. Because he wanted to stay longer inside these illogical alternate realities where he could feel fear and confusion and loss, instead of coming back to the tedious monotony of everyday life.

He recalled the image of L hanging from the ceiling to his mind, trying to summon some kind of satisfaction from watching his enemy defeated again, but nothing came forward. Watching his strong agile body sag limply from the ceiling, his clever vigilant eyes dull and unseeing, holding nothing of their usual sharp intensity, was nothing short of sad.

_(Still, it was good to see him, even like this.)_

_Shut up,_ Light snapped at the voice of his weaker self, which had started to get bolder and bolder as of late, chiming in with ridiculous and completely useless statements and emotions that only managed to aggravate him.

 _(I know you feel it too. How empty every room feels without his dominating presence. How dull and empty the_ world _feels without another brilliant mind shining through the masses.)_

_I told you to shut up._

_(You miss him. That’s alright. He was your enemy, but he had been your friend too.)_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up._

_(There’s no use denying it. You’re lonely, and that’s alright.)_

...That gave Light pause.

_Loneliness?_

Was that what he had been feeling all this time? Wasn’t it just boredom?

But he was Kira – a god. What business had a god feeling _lonely_?

 _(Even gods can feel lonely... Or rather,_ especially _gods. There are so many insignificant, inconsequential people on the planet, but how many gods are out there?)_

...It was a valid point. But still... Missing L? That was more than ludicrous.

Sure, he missed the challenge the detective had presented to him, but he did not miss that annoying, _infuriating_ creature that had been chained to him for three months.

He didn’t miss those unnerving black eyes that were trying to pierce through his skull and dig out his most guarded secrets like they belonged to him. He didn’t miss that flat emotionless voice that spouted carefully nuanced words and taunted him with compliments that were anything but. He didn’t miss the way he made him second-guess every decision, every carefully-laid plan he had ever made, or the way he tested his sanity and his control over his emotions.

He _hated_ L. He hated him with every fiber of his being.

_(And yet, that very sentiment is giving him more value than anyone else you’ve ever met. Isn’t hatred stronger than cold indifference?)_

* * *

_June 12 th, 2005_

“Light? Light, wake up!”

Light woke up slowly, brain hazy and disoriented. It took him several moments to recognize where he was, which turned out to be his living room. He was sprawled on the uncomfortable couch with the TV still on, the news anchor still droning about Kira’s recent activity. 

Misa was crouched next to him, blue eyes wide with worry. “Were you having a nightmare?”

He nodded. The memory was a little hazy and out of focus – especially towards the beginning of the dream – but from the snippets he remembered he could reconstruct most of what happened.

He’d been walking with L around the campus at To-Oh, talking about the Kira case, but at some point the previously bright blue skies suddenly turned dark grey from the gathering storm clouds and the pink cherry petals, which had been dancing lazily around them, withered and blackened and suddenly they started swirling around rapidly, forming some sort of whirlwind around L. Light had tried to get closer and help somehow – it would reflect badly on him if L happened to die because of some freak storm while he was in his company – but the strong winds, instead of pulling him into the eye of the storm, simply pushed him back.

The vortex continued swirling around L with terrifying speed, which only increased more and more until, suddenly, it stopped. An eerie silence settled as the fog the storm left behind slowly dissolved to reveal only a human-like shape on the ground comprised of the deadened cherry petals. Then a soft wind blew and scattered them, leaving Light alone in the suffocating quiet and stillness.

It hadn’t been so much the storm itself, but the ensuing calm that settled afterwards that had made Light’s heart flutter frantically in his chest with a sort of panic he rarely experienced in real life, despite the high-stakes of his mission. It was one of the – admittedly very few – times Light was happy to hear Misa’s annoyingly shrill voice pierce his ear-drums, effectively waking him up from that terrible nightmare .

“You were calling Ryuzaki’s name,” said Misa with slight disgust and a considerable amount of jealousy, for which Light wasn’t sure if he should feel amused or exasperated.

“Yes, he was going to hand me over to my execution,” lied Light like it was second nature – which it was.

Her bright blue eyes widened – almost comically. “Oh, my poor Light!” she cooed and pulled him into her embrace, which Light endured with a great amount of annoyance. “That _mean_ Ryuzaki is still giving you nightmares!” She stroked his back in a manner that was probably supposed to be comforting, but Light was too busy trying not to choke on her too-strong flower perfume to draw any kind of solace from the gesture. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. Misa is here now and she will kill _anyone_ who tries to hurt you.”

“Thank you, Misa,” he said softly, hoping she would let him go already. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Thankfully, the doorbell rang at that moment, signaling the arrival of the task force, and Light found his chance to escape. His relief however was short-lived. While humoring Misa was a great pain, working with the task force was only barely more preferable. Inane conversations and poorly thought-out theories were almost just as dreadful as the terrifying silence from his dream.

He almost wished a tornado crashed into his apartment and whisked everyone away.

_(Or bring back-)_

_Silence, you._

* * *

_July 21 st, 2005_

Light had been walking home when suddenly he felt a familiar tingle at the back of his neck, like someone’s intense gaze was fixed on him. He whirled around and his heart skipped a beat when his gaze met a pair of obsidian eyes staring at him with familiar intensity.

_What- What the-_

It took him a few moments to recover from the shock, and when he did he realized with great embarrassment that he’d been looking at a cat perched on a low ledge, whose pupils, dilated in the darkness, made it look like it had black eyes.

_Jesus, I almost had a heart-attack because of a cat._

The irony was not lost on him.

He couldn’t deny feeling a small amount of disappointment, though. Light wouldn’t put it past L to find a way to come back from the dead for a rematch; maybe some part of him kind of hoped he would.

Still, as his heart-rate slowly steadied itself in a more even tempo and as his brain started functioning again, something about the dirty stray cat with the shaggy jet-black fur made him feel uneasy. The sharpness was gone from its gaze, almost like it had never existed, and now it was looking up at him with wide innocent eyes and licking its paw.

_Did I just imagine that?_

The cat, as if noticing his unease, put its paw down and looked at him with its head tilted to the side, as if concerned. It looked unassuming and innocent enough, and yet its mannerisms and that spark of intelligence he’d momentarily caught in its eyes put him on edge.

_(Do you think L’s reincarnated as a cat?)_

Light snorted and turned around to leave, but the hair at his nape still rose as the cat’s eyes followed him out of the alley.

* * *

_August 8 th, 2005_

The task force had been working diligently on the case when suddenly the lights flickered and died and the screens turned white. Light stared at the English words in front of him, reading “All data deletion”, quizzically.

He heard L sigh beside him. “So, it is time,” he said quietly, with a tone of resignation creeping into his usually emotionless voice.

“Time for what?” asked Light, puzzled.

L simply hopped off his chair. “Come on, Light-kun.”

Light stood as well, though he did not understand what exactly was going on. “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the team?” he asked as he followed L’s slouched form out of the investigation room.

“The rest, Light-kun?” L raised an eyebrow. “We are the only ones here.”

Light whipped around and saw that, indeed, the room was empty.

 _Strange_ , he thought. _I could’ve sworn..._

When he turned back around to catch up with L, he realized with a jolt that they weren’t standing at the hallway that led to the elevator anymore but at the rooftop. He blinked in bewilderment. He didn’t remember coming up here.

The evening sky above them was overcast with heavy black rain-clouds. The cold wind whipped at his clothes mercilessly and carried over the smell of rain from somewhere far away. L walked over to the edge of the roof and slouched over the railing to look down. Light went to stand beside him and watched him dangle a red gummy-bear over the street below before he let it drop.

“It’s rather strange,” said L softly as he watched its descent to the ground.

“What is?”

“It takes so much effort and struggle to reach the top, but it only takes a few seconds to fall.”

“Oh,” said Light. He had no idea what else to say to that.

“But I suppose it does take some minimal amount of effort to push someone over the edge, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” said Light, even though at the moment it looked ridiculously easy. Just one little shove and all his problems would be solved – no need for names, or notebooks, or anything much – just a little shove was all it would take. It seemed so easy, in fact, that it felt awfully disappointing and anti-climactic.

“Have you ever pushed anyone over the edge?” asked L.

It didn’t sound like a jab or an accusation about him being Kira – simply curious. Still, he answered, “No.”

“It is a rather heady feeling. But it is only worth it if you are prepared to deal with the mess the fall leaves behind.”

“I suppose...” said Light carefully. He felt a little like the entire point of this conversation was flying over his head, like he had no idea what they were talking about at all.

“Have you ever fallen?” asked L next.

“Have you?” countered Light.

L dropped another gummy-bear – where were they even coming from? – and watched it turn into a tiny red dot as it fell and got swallowed up by the cityscape below them. “Three times.”

Light frowned, now certain that he had no idea what they were talking about. “Falling from such a height doesn’t seem like something you can do more than once.”

“No?” said L, like it hadn’t occurred to him at all. He dropped another red gummy-bear, and Light had the disconcerting but simultaneously unshakable feeling that it was the exact same one he had dropped the last two times. “Then I guess I am special.”

Light snorted delicately. “That you are.”

He felt a soft breath ruffle the hair at the side of his face and turned to find that L was no longer leaning over the railing, but standing right in front of him. He was almost uncomfortably close already, but he seemed to be leaning even closer and Light felt all of his nerve-endings fire up as a hot breath tickled the sensitive skin under his earlobe.

“Do you want me to tell you a secret?” whispered L in his ear, making goosebumps crawl up and down his spine.

“Y-Yes,” he forced out, even as everything inside him was screaming _no_. A terrible sense of foreboding made his heart flutter madly in chest and his blood run cold, but L’s body, so close to his, was radiating warmth, and it was both nice and terrible in so many ways.

“Are you sure?”

 _No,_ urged his brain.

“Yes,” said his mouth, stubbornly refusing to appear intimidated – even though he was for some reason he couldn’t possibly fathom.

L leaned back a little, but only enough to look at his face. Black eyes like bottomless pits swallowed his and thin pale lips opened to make the revelation but, before they could, his alarm went off and he woke up in his bed, his heart still pounding frantically in his chest.

* * *

_August 10 th, 2005_

Light stopped taking his sleeping pills.

He knew it was cowardly and, frankly, more than a little ridiculous. But the thing was... Well. He was scared.

What of – he wasn’t sure. He only knew it had something to do with the dreams, and, more specifically, with that last dream he had about L and him on the rooftop. The dreams had started making him nervous for quite some time now, but there was something about that last one...

He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. Had it been the strange reenactment of L’s final moments, or maybe his cryptic talk about falling and pushing someone over the edge?

_“It takes so much effort and struggle to reach the top, but it only takes a few seconds to fall.”_

What did that mean? What had he been trying to say? Was it a metaphor for his death? For how much effort he made to solve this case, only to have victory ripped from his fingers in the few seconds leading up to his tragic death?

_“But I suppose it does take some minimal amount of effort to push someone over the edge, don’t you agree?”_

Light scoffed. _Minimal, my ass. I have never put so much effort into anything ever before._

_“Have you ever pushed anyone over the edge? It is a rather heady feeling. But it is only worth it if you are prepared to deal with the mess the fall leaves behind.”_

What mess? Everything was perfect. Everything went according to plan. The world was at his mercy. Quite anticlimactically, to be honest.

But it was true that it was quite a feeling, watching your enemy fall. There was nothing quite like it.

And then...

_“Have you ever fallen?”_

_“Have you?”_

_“Three times.”_

If falling really was a metaphor for his death, then this didn’t make any sense. How can someone die three times?

Or maybe he was just reading too much into it. It was just a dream, and dreams weren’t supposed to make any sense. They were just a messy jumble of all odd things that linger in your subconscious. They had no aim or purpose other than to tie your brain into knots over nothing. And that was exactly what he was doing.

But...

_“Do you want me to tell you a secret?”_

Every time he recalled his quiet whisper, shivers went down his spine. It wasn’t even just the words. Sure, L had a lot of secrets; his entire being was comprised of secrets. His name, his identity, his past. Everything about him was shrouded in mystery, cast into shadows thicker than the darkest night, a mystery more complex than any of the mysteries he solved. And probably just as terrifying – if not more so.

But more than that, it was the way he said it. It wasn’t a threat, or a tease, or a calculated compromise. The way he leaned so close to him, the way he uttered the words, so softly and quietly, the way he looked into his eyes right before the reveal... Despite the fact that L had absolutely no grasp on the concept of personal space, this wasn’t typical behavior for the reclusive detective. It was almost... intimate.

And, yes. That was scary.

What was even scarier was this unshakable feeling that, as soon as he fell asleep again, the dream would pick up right where it left off. Of course, if he thought about it rationally, he’d realize that he had no reason to believe that, if he fell asleep, the interrupted dream would continue; that was not how dreams worked. There was no pause and un-pause button in them. And, most importantly, even if it _did_ continue, he had no reason to believe that, whatever L was going to say, could be anything other than a well-known fact or, alternatively, a blatant lie. After all, it was his own subconscious that devised these dreams and it couldn’t have knowledge of something he _himself_ didn’t know.

Yes, if he thought about it logically, he’d see that he had no reason to be afraid. But, for once, Light decided to throw logic out the window and go with his gut-feeling, and his gut was telling him that under no circumstances should he fall asleep.

Of course, he realized that it was futile. Sooner or later he would collapse from exhaustion and then he would have to face the dreams. Still, he would postpone it for as long as he could. Lots of coffee and intimidating amounts of sugar would keep him alert for a while. It wasn’t like he had any reason to be in top shape either way. Even with his brain severely muddled by lack of sleep, the police were still helpless against him – _that’s_ how stupid they were.

That wasn’t to say nobody noticed his bad shape. Even if the black circles rimming his eyes weren’t indication enough, then his increasingly bad temper and irritable mood, which he didn’t really bother to hide, were a definite giveaway. Misa was getting really worried about him, and so was his father, who often asked him if he was alright, if he was getting enough sleep, if he was plagued by nightmares...

Light knew he was slipping. His father shouldn’t be able to deduce this much – he was a better actor than _that_. The thing was, he didn’t really care. Did it really matter if he kept up the perfect-son facade? Even without it, no one would be able to tell he was Kira. And even if they did, he would still be able to outmaneuver them, just like he did with L. So what was the point in pretending?

All in all, Light was quite depressed.

He remembered the first few days of being handcuffed to L, when the detective seemed to be experiencing the same lack of enthusiasm Light was going through now. He had admitted that the reason for his bad mood had been the fact that Light might not be Kira. At the time, he had driven himself insane trying to interpret this, but maybe the reason was simpler than he’d thought.

Maybe he’d been disappointed that Light wasn’t Kira, because Light was the only one _worthy_ of being his enemy; any other conclusion would simply be too underwhelming. Light could understand that; he now felt the same way. They were always meant to be enemies. From the day he touched the black notebook that fell from the sky, their clash was inevitable, and when it happened, it was so horrifically beautiful, like all the puzzle pieces of the universe fell into place.

It was always supposed to be them. It was a game – the only game that ever mattered. And Light had won. But victory meant that the game was over, and that didn’t feel like a victory at all.

Because, without the game, what was the point?

Perhaps this was why, apart from the fear, he also felt an intense, _burning_ curiosity about what that secret from the dream might be about. Terrible and ominous as it seemed, it would certainly shake things up, stir the stillness into the chaos he had so dearly missed – the kind of chaos only L could stir.

Perhaps this was why, without the dreams, he felt such despair and hopelessness faced with the monotony of everyday life.

_(Or perhaps-)_

_No._

_Just... no._

* * *

_August 13 th, 2005_

It was bound to happen at some point. And yet that wasn’t at all reassuring when Light realized he had fallen asleep on his chair, his head resting on his arms on the desk.

They were back at the roof. L was standing exactly where he had been standing last time – _too_ close; his breath was warm against the shell of his ear and his wayward hair tickled his cheek. One thing was different, though; now Light was aware that this was, in fact, a dream. He was aware of the constantly-mounting anxiety that he’d build up over the course of the last few days about this very scenario. He was aware that he was afraid to find out what it all meant. And he was aware that he couldn’t stop it.

“Do you want me to tell you a secret?”

 _No._ _Just say no._

“Yes,” he said, despite his fear. It was stupid anyway. L was dead. He couldn’t hurt him; not really.

“Are you sure?”

Light inhaled sharply as the whisper traveled down his spine like a cold finger trailing along his back, but immediately after he clenched his jaw and bunched his fists, refusing to show weakness. “Yes.”

L looked at him with his fathomless black eyes and Light held his gaze, even as he felt the apprehension tighten and coil in his stomach, his nerves ready to snap at any moment. Something terrible was going to happen, something-

 _“You have already fallen,”_ said L softly, but the words smashed into him with surprising force.

Just as Light was starting to feel like the worst was over, L leaned even closer. And when L’s lips touched his in a slow, tantalizing kiss, all his poise and brave posturing crumbled like a house of cards, because this was just as bad as he had feared.

No, it was worse, way worse. This was worst case scenario. And Light could only stand there, frozen and breathless, eyes wide open, as everything he had built crushed down around him.

“Light?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he opened his eyes. What he saw was the dark wood of his desk, its slick surface reflecting the white glow of his screensaver – a blank screen with a big black gothic L in the middle.

“Light?” the voice repeated, filled with concern.

Light raised his head slowly and turned it to look at his father’s worried face. “...Ah,” he said tonelessly, and he felt he sounded a little like L, which was ridiculous because their voices were nothing alike. “Did I fall asleep?”

His father’s forehead was creased. “I was tempted to let you rest a little while longer – you looked like you needed it – but I thought you would ache all over in the morning, sitting like that.”

Light shook his head minutely and gave him a tight smile. “It’s fine.”

_You should have woken me up earlier._

He looked around the room, and it felt a little surreal how everything was in its place, like nothing had changed. Like a giant boulder hadn’t just crashed into his life, flattening everything in its path. The only difference was that the place was empty now; the rest of the task force must have left. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty,” said his father. “The rest have already gone home.”

Light nodded, turning his gaze back to the monitors. The black gothic L stared back at him from all the screens and it felt like it was silently mocking him.

 _Your move, Kira,_ it seemed to be saying.

He couldn’t see his father’s face, turned away as he was, but the uncertainty that hang in the air was almost tangible. “Light...” said Soichiro, his voice hesitant. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be,” he said, voice light and dismissive.

“What about Misa?” his father asked. “Is... everything alright between the two of you?”

“Of course,” he said, turning his head to face his father again.

Soichiro pursed his lips together, whatever else he wanted to ask dying in his throat at the sight of his son’s dead eyes and his blank expression. He nodded. “...Good night, then.”

“Good night,” said Light as his father turned around and started to walk towards the door. Halfway across the room, though, he paused in his steps.

“Is it-” he started, but stopped abruptly. Light heard him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Light, does this have anything to do with Ryuzaki?”

Light turned his head and gave him a smile – brilliant and fake in a way that probably not even his father could ignore. “No.”

The lie hang in the air for a few moments. Then...

“...I see,” said his father. “Good night then.” And he walked the rest of the way to the door, leaving Light alone in the stifling quiet, with only the white screens with the black gothic L to keep him company.

With slow and controlled movements, Light pressed his palms on his desk and pushed himself up, but didn’t move away from the desk. He stood like this for a few moments, still and taut.

A low chuckle broke the oppressive silence for a brief moment, quiet and breathy. Then another; this one a little more drawn-out. Then Light threw his head back as the chuckle escalated to full-blown laughter that made his shoulders quake and his stomach bounce in his abdomen. It was jagged and tore on his throat, but at least it somewhat diffused the tension that was building up inside him.

So he laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and he didn’t really know how to stop. It was like a dam broke down in his brain and all the insanity broke free, except it wasn’t insanity, it was just... funny.

Just so damn funny.

“ _Really_ , L?” he spoke to the screens scathingly, still laughing. “ _This_ is your great revenge? _This_ is all you’ve got to throw at me?”

He got no response.

“Did you really think this would break me?” Light continued taunting him, like he believed the letter on the screens would answer back. “That it would affect me in any way? You stupid, _pathetic_ bastard. You’re _dead_! You’re dead, and I won, and you can’t touch me anymore! So _tell me_ ,” he urged with a wild look in his eyes.“ _Is this really all you’ve got?_ ”

The L on the screen just watched him laugh his guts out, remaining indifferent and apathetic, and it made Light’s face twist – contort into something he probably wouldn’t even recognize if he saw himself in the mirror.

_“Answer me!”_

He didn’t. _Of course_ , he didn’t. That bastard could watch the world burn and not blink an eye. And, god, he hated him, he hated him, _he hated him_. How could he not? L was infuriating and selfish and arrogant and petty-

_(-and brilliant and beautiful and fascinating-)_

-and he always treated him like shit, tested him, goaded him-

_(-played chess with me, discussed philosophy with me, saw me as I really was-)_

-provoked him, humiliated him, pushed his buttons-

_(-argued with me, shared his theories with me, saw me as a worthy opponent and not a stupid child-)_

“-Just _shut_ the hell _up_!” he yelled, slamming his palm on the desk, so hard that it made the keyboards rattle and an empty glass that had been set on the edge fall on the floor, and yet it still failed to ease the pressure in his gut. “Do you think I don’t know these things? Do you think that- that I don’t-”

Words failed him and he just had to stop for a minute because suddenly it was all too much. His knees hit the floor and he clutched at his stomach, feeling sick and nauseous, ready to throw up. And the goddamn Ls on the screens just kept staring down at him, mocking him, taunting him, watching him fall apart apathetically just like the real L would have done and Light hated it, and he hated L, and _why couldn’t he just die?_ Why couldn’t he leave him the fuck alone? Why did he have to make a mess out of everything? Why couldn’t he just-

_Breathe. Just breathe._

Easier said than done, as his throat suddenly felt too tight and his lungs burned with every breath, but he made an effort. Remastering the mechanics of breathing was the first step to composing himself, and he needed to do that in order to _think_ , to find a solution to this... _unexpected_ problem.

_Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out..._

He repeated the mantra a thousand times in his head as he struggled to calm down, clenching his fists and digging his nails into his shaking palms, willing the sting to somehow ground him and drown out the storm inside his head.

_It’s okay. It’s okay. This isn’t the end of the world. You will figure it out. You always do._

Yes, he did, and that thought managed to somewhat contain the panic that was wreaking havoc inside his brain. Several minutes passed with him just breathing and relaxing each taut muscle in his body, one at a time.

_It’s okay. That- That was nothing. It’s a complication, yes, but you’ve faced worse and came out unscathed. You will get over it._

Yes. Yes, he would. He was Kira, and Kira didn’t need anyone. Kira wasn’t bound by anyone. He was god, and such human feelings had no place in the heart of a god. He just- He just had to get over it. Somehow.

And if he didn’t... Well. Then he would have to live with it. 

He rose to his full height again, albeit shakily, and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to lose to L – not now, not ever. And definitely not like _this_. He was better than that. He _had_ to be better than that.

He looked again at the screens. It really wasn’t hard to imagine the letter on them was actually the real L, as they already were so much alike – black-and-white, inhuman and emotionless. For all intends and purposes, it was his enemy he was staring down at the moment, and his enemy stared right back, impassive, unblinking, with a secret taunting spark playing at his lips.

 _Bring it on, Kira,_ he seemed to be saying. _Let’s see what you’ve got._

* * *

_August 19 th, 2005_

The secret was revealed. Light had fallen. Still, the bastard wouldn’t leave him be. He insisted on coming back to his dreams every single night, to destroy him a little more each time. The kiss to his lips was followed by a kiss on his cheek, then on his jawline, on the hollow of his neck, on his collarbone. Each kiss as destructive as the first.

Light stopped sleeping again; the pills were thrown out in the trash. He only took brief naps every once in a while, always putting an alarm to wake him after an hour or two, so that he wouldn’t have time to dream. It was exhausting for both his mind and his body, but it wasn’t nearly as catastrophic as the dreams.

But even during the day, L still didn’t leave him alone. His shadow always seemed to be following him, his presence constantly hanging around him, clinging to his clothes like a bloodstain or like a particularly persistent smell. He often felt like his piercing gaze was constantly fixed on him like before, making his nape tingle and his hair rise, and the feeling was so intense that it convinced him that if he looked behind him, he’d see him standing there, with his shoulders hunched over and his hands in his pockets and his lips quirking up in a small smirk, looking smug for having succeeded in fooling him that he was dead for so long.

Light fought this impulse for as long as he could, but at some point he would cave in and turn around, only to find the spot where he thought he’d be empty. Then he’d find himself staring at the empty space intensely, as if his gaze itself would be able to conjure his presence out of thin air.

This madness had to stop. It had to stop before he lost his already loose grip on his sanity.

He was starting to think it might be too late for that.

* * *

_September 4 th, 2005_

“Light?”

Light lifted his gaze from his cell phone to look at Takada’s face with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to participate a little in the conversation?” she said disapprovingly, gesturing at the others sitting with them at the café where they had pestered him to accompany them. “All you’ve done since we came here is fiddle with your phone.”

His eyebrow lifted an inch more before he managed to make it behave and move down his brow as he placed his phone on the table. “I’m sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile he used to pull effortlessly but now it strained the muscles on his face painfully. “You’re right, of course. I apologize for my rudeness.”

Takada forced a smile. “It’s alright.” Of course, it wasn’t. She and the rest of his peers from To-Oh were growing sick and tired of his excuses for always ditching and ignoring them ever since he came back to the university after his disappearance. He couldn’t blame them. If someone asked, he wouldn’t even be able to put names on the faces of most of the people sitting at the table with them.

From then on he made a minimal effort to follow the conversation and chime in from time to time, even though he felt the life drain out of him with every ignorant and unintelligent comment the others made, making him want to tear his own hair out or stab a knife in his eye socket.

_God, there’s so many stupid people all around me. How am I to survive in their inane company?_

_How am I to survive without you?_

* * *

_September 19 th, 2005_

_Bump._

_Bump._

Light kept tossing the small rubber ball at the wall and catching it when it bounced back, the motion repetitive and somewhat comforting in its mindless predictability. He had had to confiscate it from Matsuda earlier because his childish games were disrupting the team and annoying the hell out of Light, who was growing more and more short-tempered with every sleepless night. It was relaxing, though, when _he_ was the one using it.

_Bump._

_Bump._

“Light.”

Light paused in his idle game and closed his eyes briefly before he threw the ball again, with slightly more force this time.

_Bump._

“Hey, Light!”

_Bump._

“Light! Hey, Light! Are you listening to me, buddy?”

Light bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to refrain from snapping at Ryuk. Apparently, pointedly ignoring the Shinigami’s existence didn’t make it go away. It didn’t make his problems go away either.

“What?” he asked finally with a controlled voice.

_Bump._

“Light, I’m bored.”

Light sighed heavily. “Why aren’t you with Misa?”

_Bump._

Ryuk shrugged. “She’s nice, but she’s more boring than you any day. Which is saying something, because all you’ve done for the last couple of hours is play with your ball.”

“Hmm,” was all Light had to say about that.

_Bump._

He briefly wondered – not for the first time – why wasn’t weaker-Light saying anything. He hadn’t heard his voice ever since that fateful night he first had that dream.

It was strange. He had thought that, now that his claims were proved correct, he would become bolder and more obnoxious than ever, telling him all those _I told you so_ ’s he had been saving up just for this kind of occasion. Instead, it was radio silence. Like he had nothing else to say.

Or like he had never existed at all. Like Light had come up with the voice of non-Kira Light all on his own just so he had someone to blame for all those forbidden thoughts he didn’t want to own up to and, now that those thoughts were finally allowed to run rampant in his head, he had no reason to exist anymore.

_Bump._

“Light,” said the Shinigami teasingly. “It seems to me that, ever since L died, you’ve lost your edge.”

_I’ve lost a lot more than that._

His sanity, for instance.

“And what would you have me do?” he said. “I have no enemy to fight. I can’t just conjure one for entertainment.”

_Bump._

Ryuk scratched his head with one clawed finger. “Isn’t that what you’re doing as L?”

“I guess,” said Light tiredly. “But fighting with oneself isn’t entertaining, is it?”

_Bump._

“Hmm,” said the Shinigami, sounding unconvinced, before he smirked slyly. “Are you sure that that’s what this is all about?”

“Yes.”

_Bump._

“So, you’re telling me that all this moping around and fear of sleep is just because you’re bored?” Ryuk chuckled. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Light paused mid-motion before he threw the ball again and turned to glare at the Shinigami. At times, Ryuk could be annoyingly perceptive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ryuk snorted. “Whatever. But I think I should give you a fair warning. Unless you get interesting again, I might decide to kill you and go back to the Shinigami realm. Just so we’re clear.”

Light stared at him, mouth half-open in disbelief.

_Seriously?_

This idiotic good-for-nothing death god was going to be the one to bring about Kira’s downfall? Now? Now that his enemy was defeated, now that his path to success was completely unobstructed, _now_ he was going to put an end to all of his efforts?

Light’s knuckles turned white as his grip on the ball tightened.

No. He wasn’t going to let everything he had worked so hard for slip through his fingers.

“Fine,” he gritted out. “I will try to get my head back in the game.”

“Uh-huh,” said Ryuk, dubious. “I hope you do. Because if you don’t...” He trailed off dramatically and then snickered. “I’ll go ask Misa to give me an apple,” he announced before he floated away.

Light looked at the rubber ball, which was still trapped in his iron grip, like it held the answers to all his problems before he tossed it hard against the wall, making it bounce around the room before it slowly exhausted its momentum and rolled under the bed.

_Damn you, L. Even from your grave you undermine me._

He stood and went to pick up the ball from under the bed, and then sat back down and started tossing it against the wall like before – the repetitive motion calming his brain as he tried to figure out a way to get that damn detective out of his mind.

* * *

_September 21st, 2005_

Light downed one shot; then another.

 _This is ridiculous_ , he thought.

And yet, it was necessary. There was only one way to forget about L and the stupid dreams, and that was to find someone else. It was obvious that Misa wasn’t suitable for that. No matter what sexy lingerie she wore or how eager she was to please him, she never managed to bring a strong reaction from him. She must have been doing something wrong. Which was why he was here today, in this nightclub, looking for someone – _anyone_ – to stimulate him, to excite him, to drag him away from this misery.

His keen eyes scanned the women on the dance floor, all dressed in revealing clothing, dancing sensually, _seductively_. Nothing hot stirred inside him as he watched them. He felt cold and empty and slightly disgusted, and _definitely_ not turned on.

He downed another shot.

_Come on, you can do better than that._

He spotted the most good-looking woman in the club. She was tall with long brown curls and magnetizing green eyes and she was wearing a tight black dress which fit her slim figure like a glove. She danced with her friends gracefully, her hips moving invitingly, her smile coy and simultaneously provocative.

Light felt no attraction towards her whatsoever. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed her at all.

Still, he stood from the bar stool and made his way towards her.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in her car, driving to her house. Another hour later, he was walking back home, feeling emptier than before, like he had given up something important by sleeping with that woman.

He slept on the couch that day, not wanting to be anywhere near another woman, even if that woman was fast asleep.

He dreamed of L, kissing him in all the places that woman from the club had kissed him, erasing her meaningless touch with something more substantial. He woke up upon finding release, feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself.

* * *

_October 11th, 2005_

This time, he went to a gay bar.

The shame and mortification that such a desperate solution might have brought him on a different occasion was quelled by his mounting panic and frustration.

 _It only makes sense_ , he told himself. _Having sex with women brings me no pleasure; therefore, the next logical step is to experiment with men._

Perhaps this was the reason he was having those dreams at all. Perhaps it was his subconscious trying to bring attention to the perpetually ignored question of his sexuality. And since L was the only man with whom he had spent so much time together, naturally he was the one it latched onto in its effort to sort out this confusion.

He left that day from the bar with a tall blond man with a nice tan and a lean muscular body. He was definitely handsome, but his uncreative pickup lines and his stupid sex talk did a very poor job at turning him on.

He walked back home, feeling the panic and despair in his gut only grow.

_Maybe a bar isn't the best place for me to find someone that might excite me. Now that I'm certain that gender is not the issue and that looks alone are not enough for me, then maybe I need to devise a different plan to find the right person for me..._

Light gave a mirthless huff of laughter at the thought. That was even more hopeless. If he really was more attracted to intellect than to looks, then no one would ever be enough. Moderately smart wouldn't cut it. Not when they had L to compete with.

_If there's one person that's irreplaceable, that's probably L._

Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.

Suddenly, Light started when he heard a commotion from an alley nearby. Turning a corner, he almost collided with a battered brown cat that was sprinting out of the alley, as if running for its life. Looking at the wounds and scratch-marks on its skin, it probably was. And there, in the alley, stood the shabby black cat he’d seen back in July, glaring and hissing at the retreating back of the other cat.

As soon as it caught sight of him, though, its stance changed completely. It sat on its back legs and looked up at him with those same innocent-looking eyes, wagging its fluffy tail as if nothing had happened. It looked almost cute.

Light actually smiled and kneeled down to pet it, ignoring how dirty it was.

“You really _are_ intelligent, aren’t you?”

“Meow?” the cat answered, cocking its head to the side with feigned cluelessness.

“Don’t meow me. You play cute and innocent to humans so that they give you food, but when no one is looking, you turn into a tigress.”

The cat mewled again. _I don’t know what you’re talking about,_ it seemed to be saying.

“Oh, you don’t? So you didn’t get that can of tuna from some naive human who saw this poor starving cat with its wide innocent eyes and its wagging fluffy tail and took pity on it? And you didn’t just make that cat that tried to steal it from you run for its life?”

“Meow!” This time, it sounded defensive – a reaction probably triggered by Light’s glance towards the can it had been hiding behind it. But then it started playing cute again and licked his hand with its pink tongue.

Light rolled his eyes. “You know, I’m actually started to think that maybe you really _are_ L reincarnated.”

“Meow?”

“Forget it.” He stood up and, after regarding the cat for a few moments, he picked it up from the ground and started walking back home again. “Come on, then. Misa’s going to love you.”

* * *

_October 31 st, 2005_

“Light,” called Misa as she checked her make-up at the mirror in the hallway. She was dressed in black lace and sporting vampire fangs and fake blood. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party?”

“As I told you ten times already, yes, I’m sure,” answered Light, not even bothering to look up from the cat that was curled up on the couch by his side, letting him stroke her wild black fur absentmindedly.

Ryuk, who was floating nearby, snickered with amusement and Misa pouted. “But all my friends are going to be there and they’re all dying to get to know you! You’ve been avoiding meeting them for months!”

Light’s lip curled in distaste. As if mentioning her stupid model friends would make this Halloween party sound any more appealing. “I’m not in the mood for a party, Misa.”

“So you’re just going to spend the night lying on the couch with the cat?”

“That’s the plan, yes.”

Light noticed a pained expression pass momentarily from her face, but almost instantly – _stubbornly_ – she turned back to her usual bubbly self and she sighed dramatically. “You’re way too serious, Light. You need to _lighten-up_ a little.” She winked and giggled at her own joke – obstinately determined not to take this seriously – before she grabbed her purse and her coat and left with the amused Shinigami.

“Meow,” said the cat, as if expressing her relief at their departure.

“You said it,” agreed Light tiredly before he stood and went to the kitchen. When he came back to the living room, he was holding a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He set them both on the table and sat on the couch again. The cat looked at him as he poured himself a glass with something that looked like disapproval.

Light grinned wryly. “Don’t you think we should celebrate a little?”

“Meow,” said the cat, unimpressed.

Light shrugged before he raised his glass, as if proposing a toast to the empty room. “Fucking happy birthday then, bastard. Hope you’re rotting in hell.” And with that, he drained the glass.

As if disgusted with him, the cat jumped down from the couch and left the room, leaving Light to drink alone.

Later that night, Light found himself on his knees in the bathroom, throwing up the contents of his stomach. The cat was looking at him heaving in the toilet bowl from the other side of the room with something akin to pity or contempt. _“I told you so,”_ it seemed to be telling him.

Light gave a dry, mirthless laugh. “If you think that was stupid, you should hear the whole story. You’ll laugh your head off.” He sighed and rested his forehead on the toilet seat. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen, huh? How did I get here, can you tell me? Because I still don’t understand how I got from god of justice and righteous retribution to pathetic grief-stricken boy, who’s so bored and lonely that he ends up talking to his cat.”

“Meow.” _Beats me._

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Though, to be fair, you’re probably the most intelligent life-form other than me in a fifty-mile radius.”

“Meow.” _Agreed._

“I’m just so sick of this. I wish- I wish I-”

...What? What could possibly make this better?

He felt something warm and soft touch his side and he turned to find the cat huddling beside him, seeming a little more sympathetic. She nuzzled his hand with her nose and then started licking it in a way that was probably meant to comfort him.

“Ah, so you’re not a complete asshole, are you?”

The cat gave his finger a playful nip before she curled up by his side and Light started petting her. Her soft purring calmed him a little.

“I just wish...” he tried to finish his thought from a little earlier.

“Meow?”

“I wish I could get him back.”

* * *

_November 5 th, 2005_

It was a gloomy day.

It wasn’t raining, but the sky was heavy and overcast with dark grey clouds, looking ready to fall and crash them under its weight, and a harsh wind kept roaring outside the windows, howling with a drawn-out haunting cry.

Light wasn’t the only one in a bad mood. The atmosphere in Light’s living room, which now served as headquarters, was heavy and quiet. The team worked silently, as if to pay respect to the dead detective who’d been killed exactly one year ago. Even Matsuda wasn’t being as much of an excitable fool as usual.

And yet, Light was certain that none of the other members of the task force actually missed L. They probably missed the great detective who had been their best hope to catch Kira, but no one else missed his stubbornness and his petty whims. No one else missed the way he looked at everyone, like they were a puzzle to be solved, or the way he chewed on his thumb when he was constructing theories or calculating percentages, or the way he sat on his chair, coiled and defensive, as if ready to spring up and attack at the first sign of suspicious activity. No one else missed his warmth in their bed or the weight of a handcuff around their wrist or the way he dissected them with his intense gaze.

No one else felt that the world was cold and colorless and silent without L in it.

It was funny that Light separated himself from the others. It was so ironic that he would turn out to be the one to miss L the most, and yet it was oddly fitting – a revenge worthy of someone like L.

His father kept shooting him worried glances, which he diligently ignored. Before he left with the others, Soichiro tried to talk to him, but Light deflected his questions about his well-being and politely dismissed him with the excuse that he had an essay to write for one of his classes. It was obvious that his father hadn’t believed that, but eventually he decided to leave him alone.

And alone he was – if you didn’t count the black cat that watched him with its sharp vigilant eyes from the corner of the room, or the apple-eating Shinigami, who was still stubbornly refusing to haunt the human he _should_ be haunting. He was lucky that Misa’s photo-shoot was enough close by that it wouldn’t be considered a breach of contract.

Light looked at the clock. Misa would be coming home any time now after her photo-shoot was over and Light, who wasn’t particularly fond of her company at the best of days, didn’t feel he had the patience to deal with her today.

“I’m going for a walk,” he announced, mostly for the cat’s benefit. He didn’t particularly care for Ryuk.

It was a chilly night and the jacket he was wearing wasn’t nearly warm enough, but Light didn’t care. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked on, ignoring the cold wind that whipped at his clothes and messed up his hair, as well as the Shinigami that floated beside him and kept asking him where they were going. He had no destination in mind, but his feet seemed to be leading him somewhere of their own accord, as if drawn by some nameless force. It was only when he was two blocks away that he realized where he was going.

He faltered a little on his steps for a second, but then he continued walking towards the skyscraper with determination.

He entered the deserted building without problem – the security measures had all been deactivated after they stopped using it as headquarters. The place was dark and empty, an eerie silence filling the abandoned spaces. The elevator was out of order, so he took the stairs, going all the way to the top.

By the time he reached the rooftop, his breathing was labored and his legs felt like they weighed a ton. He let himself slide down the wall and sit on the cold concrete, folding his legs in front of his chest and hugging them with his arms.

He stared at the spot where he had found L exactly a year ago, standing against the pouring rain, his clothes soaked and his usually wild hair sticking to his face.

 _“The bells are loud today,”_ he had said. _“It’s a church. A wedding? Or...”_

...A funeral? Had he been hearing the bells of his own funeral, looming closer and closer with every minute that passed? Had he known even then that that would be the last day of his life?

L had been defeated that day. Light had killed him. And yet the bastard still found a way to drag him down to hell with him. Because this _had_ to be hell. What else could he call a reality where he was infatuated with the ghost of his dead nemesis?

It was so pathetic, and _so_ wrong. Kira wasn’t supposed to _need_ him – he wasn’t supposed to need _anyone_. He was supposed to be a god who rose above the debased needs and urges of common humans.

Pathetic excuse for a god he turned out to be.

Because how was he supposed to fix the world and lead humanity into a brilliant golden age of growth and prosperity when he was broken himself? 

Light closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He was so, so tired.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, L was right there on the rooftop, standing in front of the railing that lined the edge of the roof. Light knew he was dreaming, but that wasn’t important right now.

He approached L with a few brisk steps and crashed their lips harshly, pinning him against the railing and tangling his fingers in his thick black hair. _God_ , it felt so real, L’s body warm and solid against his. It was agony and it was exhilarating, and Light couldn’t help clinging to him desperately, grasping at the sharp angles of his thin body and holding on tightly.

“Light,” L managed to force out at the brief moment Light drew back to take breath.

Light promptly shut his mouth with his lips and his tongue before he could say anything else. He didn’t want to hear it; he didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. He just wanted to lose himself in this, just for a little while, before awareness dragged him back to that unbearable reality he wanted so desperately to escape.

L managed to pull back a little. “Li-”

“Shut up,” hissed Light and crashed their lips together again, pulling him flush against his body, reveling in the closeness. Perhaps he should have wondered about why L was suddenly showing reluctance when he had never done so before in his dreams, but he was too caught up in this to care.

Suddenly L pushed him with force and he stumbled back.

“What’s the matter with you?” panted Light when he found his equilibrium again.

L lifted an eyebrow. “What is the matter with _me_ , Light-kun?”

“What are you-”

L raised his hands to his cheeks and wiped at the dampness Light hadn’t realized was there with surprising gentleness. “You’re a mess, Light-kun,” he whispered, and there was something uncharacteristically soft in his eyes as he let his hands rest on his shoulders. Light couldn’t tell whether it was pity or sympathy.

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh, dry laugh. “And whose fault is that?”

“You brought this on yourself.”

“And you’re enjoying this, don’t you?” said Light as he opened his eyes, his voice simply tired instead of angry or accusatory. “Watching me fall apart because of you.”

L shrugged. “I’m dead. I don’t feel anything.”

“As if you felt anything while you were alive,” scoffed Light, shaking his head. “You were like a machine – cold and heartless.”

“But I wasn’t a murderer.”

“No, but you let murderers run free, committing atrocious crimes and ruining lives, which is much worse.”

L tipped his head to the side. “Then what does it say about you that you’re in love with such a person?”

That made Light’s mouth twist. “I’m not _in love_ ,” he spat the words out like they were poison. “It’s just a stupid obsession. It will pass.”

“If you say so.”

Something hot, like rage or hatred, briefly sparked in Light’s eyes, but dimmed and died the very next moment and he was only left with deep-rooted exhaustion and a bitter resentment that got lodged in his throat and made it painful just to breathe around it.

“I hate you,” he said quietly.

The corner of L’s mouth twitched imperceptibly. “I was the world’s greatest detective, Light-kun. You’d think I’d figured out as much.”

Light let out a weak huff. “Weren’t you just trying to convince me that I’m in love with you?”

L shrugged. “The two are not mutually exclusive. Besides, this is a dream. Cohesion is not something one would expect to find in dreams.”

“ _This_ dream is strangely cohesive, actually,” Light noted. “So far, no tornado whisked you away, no chain hanged you from the ceiling, no storm broke out out of nowhere.”

“Perhaps it’s your state of mind that is becoming more cohesive.”

“Meaning?”

“That you are starting to figure things out.”

The corner of Light’s lips quirked up, almost painfully. “You’re insufferable, do you know that?”

L slowly blinked his wide black eyes. “I hear that often.”

“And utterly ridiculous.”

“I hear that often as well.”

Light kissed him then, softly. When their lips separated, he closed his now dry eyes and leaned his forehead against L’s – more a sign of exhaustion than of affection or sentimentality.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered. “Why are you still tormenting me? Why can’t you just die?”

“I _have_ died, Light-kun.”

“Then leave me be. Stop haunting me like this.”

Light opened his eyes and found L’s black eyes boring into his with the same kind of intensity they held when he was alive. Light thought he could drown inside their fathomless depths. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yes,” he said, even though at the moment all he wanted was to hold onto him and never let go.

L nodded once. “Alright,” he said, taking a step back, and Light was suddenly feeling cold. L then turned around and passed one leg over the railing.

“What are you doing?” asked Light, even though he had already guessed the answer.

“What you told me to,” said L and passed his other leg over the metal bar. Now it was only the balls of his feet that were planted at the very edge of the rooftop floor, and his hands, which were curled around the railing, the only thing that kept him from plummeting to the ground. “Leaving you. This time for good.”

Light snorted. “You are already dead, L. And this is a dream. A suicide doesn’t really mean anything here.”

L cocked his head to the side. “Quite on the contrary, Light-kun. Once I jump, you will never see me again. Neither in your dreams, nor in real life.”

“Good,” said Light, even as everything inside him screamed to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. “That is my wish.”

The corner of L’s lips quirked up slightly. “Good,” he said before he let go of the railing.

Light watched him fall backwards numbly, and it was like time slowed down for this, or like L was falling through water, not air. And Light knew that, if he hurried – if he leaped forward and grabbed at him – he’d be able to catch him before he was out of reach. But he just stood there, as stoic as a brick wall, watching him slip through his fingers, _again_.

And then he was out of reach and time sped up to normal again, so that L was falling faster. Light’s hands gripped the railing – like he was the one falling and needing to hold onto something – but that was the only indication of his inner turmoil.

“Farewell, my friend,” he said quietly.

Like he heard it, L smiled up at him and then disappeared into thin air – several feet before he ever touched the ground. And the second he disappeared, everything fell silent; the cars and the voices from the people below; the roar of the airplanes and the helicopters that flew above; even the howl of the wind wasn’t heard anymore. All Light could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, its uneven tempo echoing loudly in his ears.

The soul-crashing silence engulfed him in its stifling, claustrophobic embrace and Light screamed.

* * *

_November 6 th, 2005_

He was still screaming when he woke up.

It took him a few moments to get his bearings. He was still on the roof, but L wasn’t there. The only other presence up there was Ryuk, who was watching him curiously. The noise from the city came back full force, but instead of being comforting, it was only loud and grating on his nerves.

“Bad dream?” asked the Shinigami leaning over him, his clownish smirk ever-present on his face.

Light ignored him, focusing on getting his breathing back under control. He was still shaking, with the image of L’s smile before he disappeared still imprinted on his retinas.

When his heart finally stopped pounding erratically in his chest, he shakily stood up from the cold floor and walked towards the edge of the roof.

He looked at the city that was spreading below him – a sea of flickering lights stretching far to reach the horizon. Now that he got used to the city noise again, it didn’t feel much different to the suffocating silence of the dream. There was sound, but it was meaningless sound that served no purpose. Just like the people causing the noise – small and unimportant.

“Are you going to jump?” asked Ryuk, who was now standing next to him, looking down like he was calculating the distance Light would cross until he hit the ground.

Light sighed. What he wanted more was to scream again – to slice this different, mundane sort of silence with the sound of his despair. “Does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway sooner or later.”

He hated the resigned tone in his voice. Was this it? Was this the end of Kira?

He had so much left to do. The world was still rotten and corrupt; the weak were still oppressed by the evil, the innocent were still victimized. If _he_ couldn’t save them, then who would? Who would be prepared to sacrifice so much, to take on such a heavy burden and be strong enough to obliterate anyone who would oppose them? Even if he wasn’t whole, he was still more fit for the job than anyone else.

And he still wanted to see that perfect world without evil – he wanted it more than anything in the world – and he still wanted to get a taste of the godhood that waited for him at the end of this journey.

But how could he go on like this until then? Empty and incomplete? Wasn’t there any way to fix himself? A way to get back his resolve and continue what he started?

“You know,” said Ryuk, scratching his head, “I really don’t want to kill you. You’re the most interesting human I’ve met.”

“Well, if you have any other suggestions,” snapped Light, “I’d _love_ to hear them.”

The Shinigami hesitated. “ _Well_...”

Light turned his head and looked at the Shinigami. “Ryuk?”

“Yes?”

“ _Do_ you have any other suggestions?”

The death god looked conflicted, but in the end he sighed and conceded, “There _might_ be something.”

Light frowned. “Go on.”

"Umm..." Ryuk scratched his head again nervously. “You know the eye deal?”

Light sighed, disappointed. “Ryuk, I’m not making the eye deal. I don’t even need the eyes anymore now that I have Misa.”

“I’m not saying you should get Shinigami eyes.”

“Then what _are_ you saying?”

“There is another deal you could make.”

Light raised an eyebrow. “What kind of deal?”

Ryuk hesitated again. “You know, I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why?”

“It’s against the Shinigami laws. It’s only a Level 6 violation, so I won’t die or anything, but it will be somewhat painful.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

Ryuk shrugged. “I don’t know. It might be worth it. It should definitely shake things up a bit.”

The wind picked up and Light, shivering slightly, put his hands in his pockets to protect them from the cold. “Tell me about this deal.”

“Did you know that gods of death can time travel?”

Light inhaled sharply.

_Time travel?_

If time travel was possible then... Could he...

He was aware that he was shaking again, but this time not with dread. This time, it was excitement. “Are you saying that you could send me back in time?”

“Yeah, well... There will be a price, of course.”

_Of course._

Light braced himself for the disappointment before he asked, “What is it?”

“For each day you wish to go back in time, I take one day from your lifespan.”

Light took a deep breath. If that was true, he would lose a year at the very least in order to...

But what was the alternative? He couldn’t go on like this, he would lose his mind... That was, unless Ryuk decided to write his name on his notebook and be done with it.

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. _I’m going to see him again._

 _The_ real _him._

He had to take the deal. If not for himself, then for those who still counted on Kira. He had to go back and face the source of this confusion. Maybe if he saw him, touched him, _kissed_ him – for _real_ this time – then maybe he would get it out of his system once and for all.

Or, better yet, maybe just being in L’s presence again would remind him of all the reasons he hated him. All his annoying habits and his insufferable personality, all of which had been glossed over in his mind because of the time spent apart, they would all come back to him. And then he would be so mad at himself, he would wonder, _Just how the hell did I ever think I could love this maddening creature?_ And he would beat himself up so hard for giving up a whole year of his life just to see the bastard, but...

He would be free. He would be whole again.

 _This is just to get my resolve back_ , he told himself. _I’m not giving up on my utopia. I_ will _see Kira’s dream realized. I just... need to fix myself before I do that. I need to become the god this world needs._

_And when I’ve taken that detective out of my damn mind, I will kill him again and pick up where I left off._

He already knew L’s real name. He wouldn’t have to use Rem this time – though it _would_ be inconvenient if that Shinigami didn’t die with him. Her protectiveness over Misa was annoying and could get in the way of his plans.

But then again, finding a different way to kill Rem would provide him a challenge to keep him going after L’s death – as well as a way to keep Ryuk entertained for a little longer. Perhaps if this time he had a way to kill his boredom, L’s death wouldn’t have such a detrimental impact on his psyche. Perhaps solving all of his problems at once like he did before might be ill-advised.

He shook his head. No matter. He would contemplate the specifics of L’s eventual death later. Now he just had to make the deal.

“Alright,” he said to Ryuk. “I will pay the price.”

Ryuk’s smile seemed rather ominous. “How much exactly?”

Light opened his mouth to answer, but the Shinigami interrupted him, “Think well before you answer. If you went back and then you realized it wasn’t as far back as you would have liked, if you wanted to make the deal again, then you would have to pay more.”

Light’s eyes narrowed. “More?”

Ryuk nodded. “Each time you make the deal, the price goes up. The second time, it would be a month for each day you wanted to go back. The third time, it would be a year.”

Light licked his lips. “I see. Let me think about it for a few moments.”

He started calculating. How far back should he go?

It couldn’t be less than a year, but he couldn’t go further back than October 28th, which was when he got back his Death Note from Higuchi. He didn’t know if he would remember travelling back in time without his memories of the Death Note. He couldn't risk it, or else he might end up changing too much without realizing it, and then he wouldn't be able to rely on his foreknowledge. With an enemy as formidable as L, something like that could prove catastrophic. So, the ideal time to go back to would be the night of October 28th, or the morning of October 29th.

He checked his watch; it was two thirty a.m. Which meant that, if he wanted to arrive at two thirty a.m. on October 29th...

“Three hundred and seventy-three days,” he announced to Ryuk.

Ryuk’s clownish smirk broadened and he looked like he was barely containing his excitement. “Done,” he said and touched his shoulder. “I hope he is worth it.”

 _So do I,_ was his last thought before the world started spinning and Light lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughh, I'm still not satisfied with this chapter. In any case, I'd love to hear your thoughts about it, even if you hated it :)
> 
> As for when I'll post the next chapter... It might take a while. I've only written 5,000 words of it, and it's still the first draft. Knowing just how much time it takes me to edit chapters and then to beat my insecurity and fear of failure in order to ACTUALLY post it, it will probably be a few weeks before I update this :/ Don't worry though, even if it takes a while, there's absolutely no way I'm abandoning this story :)


	3. First try - Gamble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... so, so late, I'm really sorry guys. The thing is, the chapter just wasn't turning out the way I wanted and I got so discouraged, I couldn't write for months. I mean, I wrote, but I hated every word of it and always ended up deleting it. NaNoWriMo, thank goodness, revived me and gave me enough momentum to finish this chapter, but, ugh, I still kind of hate it. But I also kind of want to move things along? So I guess I'll just stop obsessing over this and post it now.
> 
> The good news is that this is an extra long chapter (around 29k, I think? which is, like, the length of the first two chapters combined, lol), so maybe that makes up for the lateness?? No?? ...Okay.
> 
> Anyway, I want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who left a comment, every single one of you has a special place in my heart. You guys are the real reason I didn't give up when things got hard :))

_October 29th, 2004_

Light woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. He pried his eyes open a fraction but his vision was spotty and blurry. The world around him felt hazy and unfocused, as if its very foundations were tilting and shifting underneath him, and Light closed his eyes again, waiting for the world to steady itself.

Slowly, the nausea dissipated and he let out a little sigh, shifting a little to get more comfortable. There was a strange nagging feeling at the back of his head, telling him that he was forgetting something important, but Light was too sleepy to care at the moment. He felt so relaxed and comfortable in the warm bed, the repetitive sound of typing lulling him to sleep...

_...Typing?_

His body jolted like he was electrocuted and his eyes snapped open at once, fully awake now. His grogginess dissolved as his brain whirred back to life, stirring up his memories of what had happened before he lost consciousness.

_Time travel..._

It was nighttime, but the room was cast with a pale blue light, which allowed him to see a stretch of a white wall in front of him. It was almost completely bare, save for an impressionistic painting of some rainy city street. He didn’t remember who the artist was, but he remembered the painting - he had spent many long sleepless nights staring at it as a certain insomniac detective didn’t let him sleep with all the noise he made.

Now, though, the typing had stopped, probably because the person who had been _doing_ the typing noticed Light’s jolt. A few moments passed in silence as Light waited – unless he counted the almost deafening pounding of his own heart against his ribcage, thudding like a drum.

And then...

“Light-kun?”

He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

_I did it._

“Yes?” said Light quietly.

“...Are you alright?”

“Yes. Why?"

“You jolted thirty-two seconds ago. And now you’re... shaking.”

Light wrapped his arms around his body in an effort to stifle his shivers. “I’m fine, Ryuzaki. Don’t interrupt your work on my account.”

“You sound a little breathless too.”

“I-” His voice cracked. “I just… had a nightmare.”

He could feel L’s gaze on him like a laser beam burning holes in his back. He was hyper aware of his presence behind him in a way that wasn’t entirely new, making goosebumps run up and down his spine. The bed creaked and he felt the mattress shift under him as L hopped off the bed and padded around it. Light closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, bracing himself, before he reopened them.

He was here. He was really here, in all his unkempt glory; messy black hair sticking out in all odd angles, sickly pale skin seriously lacking in melanin, long bony limbs, ridiculously curved spine – it was all there. L crouched right in front of him and Light could only stare into his wide dark eyes, into those black holes that sucked him in with their gravitational pull, drinking in his presence like he wasn't entirely convinced he was real.

“Light-kun is very pale.”

He could even smell him now. He had forgotten his exact scent after all those months, but now he could almost taste it on his tongue - the traces of the strawberry-scented shampoo he favored, the mingled aroma of coffee and sweets in his breath, the lavender fabric-softener Watari used - and it made him feel like all of his senses were filled with L for the first time in a whole year; even the fact that they were not touching was only bringing attention to the fact that he wanted to - to just reach out and make sure he wasn’t some sort of mirage or hallucination.

He took a deep breath through his mouth, so that his mind wouldn’t be clouded by L’s very real scent. “Ryuzaki?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could get me a glass of water?”

L hesitated. “...Sure,” he said at last and stood up. He glanced back at Light once, his forehead creased with wariness and suspicion, before he turned around and shuffled towards the kitchen to fetch him his water.

As soon as L was out of his sight, Light finally breathed freely. This would give him a little time to get his act together. He couldn’t afford to raise his suspicion of him now – not while everything was falling into place for their final showdown.

He took a few moments just to breathe before he slowly sat up on the bed. He looked around at the room, only lit by L’s laptop screen, and at the sight of the familiar surroundings, he was swept by an unexpected wave of nostalgia, memories of petty squabbles, intense chess-games, silly banter and brain-stimulating conversations playing out in his mind's eye like a movie-montage.

A small, self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. _I gave up a whole year of my life to return to the place of my captivity._

_And all of that just to see him._

He heard the sound of L’s soft footsteps making their way back to the bedroom and he tried to make his body relax. L’s slouched form entered the room again holding a glass of water delicately in his pale hand, his dark eyes set on Light’s face as he approached, piercing and cautious. Light managed to keep his face expressionless as L leaned down and offered him the water, but when he picked up the glass and tried to bring it to his mouth, his hand was shaking so badly that he almost spilled the water on his shirt.

 _So much for keeping it together,_ he thought wryly.

L, still looking wary and confused by his inexplicable behavior, took the glass from his hand and, before Light could protest, brought it steadily to his mouth. Light managed to somehow gulp the water down without choking and then L set the glass on the nightstand.

A tense silence ensued as L simply stared at him with his forefinger pressed to his lips, trying to figure him out. Normally, this would just be annoying, but now the intense scrutiny made Light’s skin crawl and the hairs on his nape rise, as if electrified. He had forgotten what it was like being pinned down by his intense stare.

“...Will you let me sleep now?” Light asked finally, injecting a small dose of annoyance in his voice.

“Light-kun seems too jittery to sleep.”

Light sighed heavily. It was just his luck that the first time L showed concern about his ability to sleep would be now. “I’ll be fine. I just need some time to calm down, that’s all.”

“What was the nightmare about?”

A small snort escaped Light. “Callous as always, I see,” he muttered, his tone drier than he would have liked. His acting skills had gravely deteriorated during this past year, it seemed, and it was worrying.

L ignored that completely, opting for inching even closer, as if he’d be able to see into his very soul if he observed him from close enough, and Light went rigid. “Am I making Light-kun nervous?” he asked with a bird-like tilt of his head.

“You make everyone nervous all the time, Ryuzaki,” said Light, leaning away from him. His skin felt too tight around his body, making him want to turn his gaze away from L, but he couldn’t do so without feeling like he was losing. “It’s your superpower. Now, can you get out of my personal space and let me sleep in peace?”

L didn’t back away an inch – instead, Light could’ve sworn he leaned _even closer_. He could even feel his warm breath now ghost against his skin, and all Light could think about was that stupid dream that had changed it all, when L had leaned so close to whisper in his ear.

_“Do you want me to tell you a secret?”_

“But Light-kun has long since grown accustomed to my ability to make people nervous,” said the L from here and now, snapping him out of the sudden flashback. “Why is he suddenly affected by it now?”

Light sighed and closed his eyes briefly, if only to escape L’s scrutiny for a second or two. “Because I’m _distressed_ , Ryuzaki. Is it not natural I don’t want people crowding me right after I had an awful nightmare?”

L bit the tip of his thumb as he contemplated Light’s answer. “...Fair enough,” he conceded at last. He finally pulled away and Light let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. L continued nibbling on his thumb thoughtfully. “...Perhaps a little fresh air would help?”

“That’s a good idea, actually.” A great idea, in fact. The perfect opportunity to get some space so that he could think clearly again, away from L’s overwhelming presence.

“I believe the rooftop would do.”

Light nodded and stood up. L straightened as well – as much as L _would_ straighten, which meant his spine was still quite curved – and moved to leave the room.

“...Where are you going?” asked Light, suspicious.

L turned back and raised an eyebrow. “To the rooftop, of course.”

_Of fucking course._

“There’s no need for you to come as well,” said Light, managing a reassuring smile. “We’re not chained together anymore, remember?”

L tipped his head to the side. “Is there a reason Light-kun wishes to part with me? Maybe he’s hiding something?”

Light sighed, weary and irritated. _Same old paranoid L._ “Would it be that far-fetched to assume that I just want to be alone for a few minutes?”

“No, but I am not the kind of person to take unnecessary risks.”

“It’s an unnecessary risk to leave me unsupervised for just a few minutes?”

L shrugged. “Knowing what we do now about the Death Note, killing someone in just a few minutes – no, seconds – doesn’t seem impossible.”

Light massaged the bridge of his nose, struggling to force down his frustration in order to form a counter-argument. His mental faculties had grown awfully rusty since L’s death, as had his ability to be patient with this maddening man. “Ryuzaki, even if I _did_ have the inclination to kill you, the Death Note is safely kept at the investigation room, under constant surveillance. How could I use it without you finding out about it?”

“I think it is safe to assume that there is at least one more Death Note out there.”

“Even so, where could I possibly keep it? In the pajamas you have personally authorized because they provide no pockets or other possible hiding spots?”

L gave him a small smile. “I try not to underestimate Light-kun’s cunning.”

Light let out another sigh, resigned. “I thought I was cleared off all suspicion?”

“Officially, yes. That doesn’t stop me from privately suspecting you still. I am quite stubborn if you haven’t noticed.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he said, the sarcasm heavier in his voice than he’d intended, and he shook his head. “You really are impossible, Ryuzaki.”

L’s smile widened just a little more. “So I’ve been told,” he said and turned around again to leave the bedroom.

Light ran a hand through his hair and took another shaky breath to steady himself before he grabbed a jacket and followed him. He was back here only for a few minutes and he was already losing it, his composure as flimsy and precarious as a thin, frayed string pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.

But, then again, hadn’t that been the reason he was back in the first place? To feel like this again? To feel the thrill of L’s mere presence, the pressure of his shrewd mind and his sharp gaze, always fixated on him, like he was the only person in the world that mattered?

To feel this alive again?

Outside at the rooftop, a sudden sense of deja-vu blind-sided Light.

L smiling slightly before he let go of the railing.

L falling in slow-motion as Light simply watched.

L disappearing in thin air.

L must have realized that Light had fallen behind, because he turned around and looked at him quizzically. “Light-kun? Are you feeling unwell?”

Light blinked the image away. His throat felt dry, so he cleared it before he spoke. “No, not at all.”

“You look very pale.”

“I’m fine, Ryuzaki,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Really.”

Something flickered on L’s face momentarily, but he wiped it off with a blank look so quickly that Light hadn’t been able to put a name to it. Yet, the way he turned his face away and the way that he slouched even more than usual spoke of fear, the cause of which Light couldn't possibly fathom. He wished he could see his eyes, but they were shadowed by his hair that fell in front of his face.

He took a few steps forward and stood next to L, struggling to keep his gaze fixed on the breathtaking view of the large city spreading out underneath them and away from the detective’s face. In the end he lost the battle, the urge to just glance at him and make sure he was still there nearly impossible to resist, and Light turned to look at him... only to find L’s intense gaze already fixed on his face.

“What?” he questioned.

“You changed again,” said L in his usual flat voice, but there was a strange intensity in his eyes.

“What do you mean, _‘changed’_ ?” asked Light carefully. “And what do you mean _‘again’_?”

L didn’t answer, but his sharp gaze kept searching his face for those telltale signs that would prove this _‘change’_.

Light sighed. “How much?”

“How much what?”

“How much has my percentage risen?”

L gazed upwards as he calculated, worrying his lower lip with his thumb. “Sixteen percent.”

“Even after the revelation of the thirteen-day rule?” Light managed to say with the appropriate amount of exasperation.

L nodded. “There is no reason to presume that this rule hasn’t been fabricated by Kira in order to clear himself off suspicion.”

“No reason other than the fact that all rules seem to have been written with ink that is not of this world?”

L shrugged. “He might have manipulated the Shinigami to forge it. That would coincide with the fact that Rem-san hasn’t been particularly forthcoming in answering my questions, claiming ignorance.”

Ah, yes. Light had already known that L had never been completely fooled by the fake rules. It was a little sad that he had almost figured it all out but lost because he couldn’t prove anything. His defeat would be even sadder this time because the power difference between them was so much greater now.

As if he had heard his thoughts, L suddenly shivered and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Are you cold?” asked Light.

L shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You should have brought a jacket – or at least some shoes. It’s almost November.”

“I’m fine, Light-kun. There is no need to fuss.”

“Yes, there is.” He finally succumbed to the impulse and grabbed L’s hand, startling him. “Your hand is as cold as ice.”

“Light-kun,” said L, sounding irritated, “I said I am-”

“Come here.”

L’s eyes widened a little in bewilderment. “What do you-”

Light sighed heavily and tugged at L’s hand, bringing him closer, before he wrapped him in his arms.

L's body went rigid against his, and Light knew that the only reason he wasn't pushing him away yet was because he was caught off guard. "...Light-kun, what-"

“Shut up,” said Light, rubbing his back to make his blood circulate. “I’m keeping you warm.”

After a few moments, the detective finally forced himself to relax a little in his arms, but Light could still feel L's heart pound against his chest, his heartbeat nearly as fast as his own.

“You are shivering a little as well,” said L quietly.

“I guess I am.” He didn’t add that it wasn’t from the cold.

Light took in a shuddering breath.

_You're real._

_L, you're really-_

Light clenched his eyes shut, swallowing the lump in his throat, and he held him tighter against himself as he breathed in his familiar scent, finally letting it sink in.

_You're really back._

_That nightmare is finally over._

 

* * *

 

Light was finally asleep - L could tell by the rhythm of his breathing. That meant he could finally stop pretending he was working, so he flipped the laptop closed and threw it aside.

He ran his hand through his hair, his fingers catching inevitably in the tangled mess.

_...What is going on? What changed again?_

This mess of a case just didn’t seem to make a lick of sense. By the time he started to think he was figuring things out, something like this happened and obliterated all of his deductions, bringing him back to square one.

_Shinigami, Death Notes, rules..._

It all defied logic, but he could not doubt what his eyes were telling him. Their existence could not be denied, even if the rules by which they abided were still unclear at best, completely unknown at worst.

_And yet... Why does it always feel like the most extraordinary mystery of this strange illogical world is right here in this room with me?_

He couldn’t deny that the mere thought of the existence of Shinigami had petrified him back when he’d first heard that word being mentioned so casually by the Second Kira. He’d been afraid that something like that might be behind it all, and when the Second Kira brought it up herself, it was like someone pulled the rug from underneath his feet. Still, as Light had pointed out at the time, perhaps she hadn’t meant it literally, so he’d calmed himself down with that thought.

Six hours ago, his fears had been proven correct. Shinigami really did exist and they were heavily involved in this case. But very soon it became obvious that things weren’t as dire as he had feared. Shinigami were not omnipotent - their will was not law. They were immortal and they could easily kill any human they wanted, but there were restrictions and their powers were finite. And that meant that this was not hopeless; L still had a fighting chance, if only he could figure out the rules and use them to his advantage.

The fact that Light seemed to have regained his memories of being Kira – L was sure of that, even if he couldn’t prove it – was a scarier development than the revelation of the existence of Shinigami, because it meant that, whatever his plan had been when he had given up his memories, it had come to fruition and he would soon reap the benefits of this gamble. But even that would be manageable if L could just figure everything out fast enough. It was a race against time – he was sure of that – and it was very possible that he might not be fast enough; defeat had never never seemed so much like a real scenario as it did now. But even still, all wasn’t lost yet. Even taking everything into account, he still had a fifteen percent chance of success.

Now though...

Now all of these deductions and calculations meant nothing, as another unknown variable entered the equation out of the blue. Light had changed again. He didn’t know how, or why, or what it meant - for all he knew, it could be a good thing. But that was the thing - there was nothing that scared him more than the unknown.

Yes, L could admit it. He was scared - he had never been more scared of something in his life. Even the fear he experienced during his nightmares – though intense – felt foreign, like it was not his own. Like it belonged to someone else, to a little boy he couldn’t even remember being outside of those fragmented memories that would rise in his dreams. As soon as he woke up, the fear, along with the little boy, was gone.

This fear, though, was all his own. He could feel it churn in his gut and rise up his throat like bile, choking him and clouding his mind. He didn’t know what was going on and what was in store for him, but he knew one thing – he didn’t want to die. Not yet, not like this. He had come to Japan and he had revealed his face knowing the risks, but only now did it hit him as a very real possibility.

_I’m in over my head, aren’t I?_

He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. He’d survived this long against all odds, despite the dangers of his job. He’d made it to the top, solving the hardest cases and putting in jail the most ruthless criminal masterminds the world had ever seen, despite being the mere orphan of an eccentric fortune-teller.

And after all of that, to be outmaneuvered by a kid. Yes, it was laughable.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Yes, a kid. An idealistic eighteen-year-old boy with naive, overly-simplistic ideas about good and evil and about how the world worked.

It was, however, the same kid who, once he was handed a simple notebook – murderous, yes, but with limited powers –  set out to take over the world. The same kid who came as close to achieving his goal as was humanly possible in such short time.

_Yes, a kid. But the most extraordinary kid I’ve ever known._

The sound of choking and gasping for air snapped him out of his depressing train of thought and turned his head to find Light sitting up, breathing heavily and looking around frantically. When his eyes found L’s, he just looked at him quizzically for a few moments, like he didn’t understand what he was looking at.

Slowly, the wild look in his eyes was replaced with sudden realization and he took a deep shuddering breath before he closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the headboard, waiting for his rapid breathing to slow down.

_...What on earth…?_

“...Another nightmare?” asked L carefully once he had composed himself a little.

Light finally opened his eyes again, looking so very tired, and swallowed. “Yes. I… don’t want to talk about it.”

This… What was this? L had been sharing the same room with Light for three months and he knew he wasn’t usually prone to nightmares. There had been a few, mostly concentrated during the first few days of them being chained together, right after the whole execution act he had had his father put on, but those nightmares stopped again pretty soon.

Now though, in the course of one night, he already had two. And perhaps he could have attributed them to the discovery of Shinigami and Death Notes if he didn’t firmly believe that Light had encountered both before. So… What was this about?

Light shuddered suddenly and drew his knees close to his chest, looking around until his gaze settled on L’s closed laptop, resting on the nightstand. “How come you’re not working?”

“...I was taking a break.”

Light scoffed. “You, taking a break from work. What has the world come to?”

L blinked. Dry sarcasm? From Yagami Light, the embodiment of propriety? And it wasn’t even the first time that night. “...I am not the only one acting out of sorts.”

Light chortled mirthlessly. “No. You’re not.” He inhaled deeply and shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.”

“That makes two of us,” L muttered.

Light’s fingers started fiddling absently with the hem of of his shirt-sleeve, like he was too on edge to keep still, and his eyes had that old look of intense focus that had not appeared much since his confinement. L was both uneasy and irrationally thrilled that it was back. For all his fear, he was still hopelessly looking forward to seeing what Kira would come up with next.

Sometimes, he still wondered whether Kira had been the best or the worst thing that could have happened to him.

“You should get back to sleep,” he said after a few moments. “You are going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

Light toyed with a loose thread on his sleeve. “What about you?”

“I will try to be quiet, I promise.”

An unexpected scowl drew Light’s eyebrows together, one he probably hadn’t wanted to let show, because he quickly wiped it off his face; though, from the unnecessarily forceful way he pulled at the loose thread, he probably realized it was already too late and was angry with himself. “You don’t-” He let out a heavy exhale, closing his eyes, his fingers finally still again. “You don’t have to be.”

_...Huh?_

“I… don’t have to be quiet,” L echoed, disbelieving.

Light opened his eyes again with a resigned half-smile; he looked incredibly weary. “No, you don’t.”

“...I believe it is my turn to wonder what the world has come to.”

From the look on Light’s face, L could tell he was wondering the same thing.

 

* * *

 

In the end, it had been a sleepless night for both of them. Even after L started working on his laptop again, Light still hadn’t been able to relax again, the nightmare and the stress of facing L again making him too agitated to sleep. But, of course, sleep-deprivation was nothing they weren’t both used to by this point. Still, when they were questioned about their heavy and gloomy moods the next morning by the other members of the task force, they both blamed lack of sleep.

Work was tedious as always. It mostly consisted of L asking Rem questions about the Death Note and her answering she didn’t know anything. Light chimed in from time to time, saying the exact same things he’d said in the previous timeline, but that was mostly on autopilot. Even when speaking, his mind was somewhere far away. It wasn’t needed to be completely present either way, since everyone seemed to be following their script for the time being.

Only L seemed to be staring at him more than before, probably suspicious from his new tendency to space out when the investigation seemed to be progressing faster. Light could feel his eyes on his back, piercing him like needles, and it didn’t really help him be any less distracted.

Light rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the dull throb behind them. It had only been a few hours since he came back here, but the previous timeline was already starting to unravel, and all because of his own inability to perform like usual.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, that L had such an effect on him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. If this kept on at this rate, then soon he wouldn’t be able to rely on his foreknowledge anymore. He couldn’t risk it, not when his life and his precious utopia was at stake. He should get a grip already and pull the breaks before the situation derailed even further.

Once the questioning was over - and just as fruitless as in the previous timeline - they all sat down in front of their computers and started the even more tedious work of comparing the names on the Death Note with the names of Kira’s victims. It was incredibly boring and monotonous and it didn’t preoccupy his thoughts enough to stop him from driving himself insane by wondering how the hell he was going to handle this situation with L. Just being in the same room as him made him feel agitated and on edge, and when his piercing gaze was directed at him - which was much too often - it made goosebumps rise on his back. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams and he had no idea how to keep himself together and figure out a way to deal with this.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? How was he going to severe his attachment to L like this, when his mere existence seemed to drive him insane?

Just when had everything become this damn complicated?

A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and Light nearly jumped right out of his skin.

“...Light-kun?”

Light turned to find L standing there, already retracting his hand from his shoulder and staring at him with obvious confusion and wariness. Looking around he noticed that the rest of the task force was also staring at him, and so did Rem from her place at the corner of the investigation room.

“What is it?” he asked carefully.

“...I’ve called your name three times already, Light-kun,” said L, still looking wary.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was too immersed in my work. What is it you wanted to tell me?”

L brought his thumb to his mouth, absently worrying the tip with his teeth. Light could almost hear his thoughts swirling inside his head, trying to pick apart the inner workings of his brain. “Ten minutes ago I had asked you to send me the names of people that died of heart-attack last December.”

Light frowned. “I did that.”

“No, what you emailed me was a copy of the grocery list I had you devise yesterday for Matsuda-san.”

Light stared at him dumbly for a few moments. “What?” he uttered at last. “There’s no way-”

“Check your sent messages.”

Light turned back to the computer and did just that, only to find that the last email he sent to L was, indeed, the grocery list.

 _Dear god,_ he marveled at himself. _This is a new low._

He was entirely too aware of the whole task force still staring at him.

“Light-kun, are you sure you are alright?” asked L carefully, and Light wasn’t sure if he imagined the slight concern in his voice.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine, Ryuzaki. It must be the lack of sleep getting to me. I should be alright after getting some fresh air.”

L didn’t look convinced. “Maybe it would be better if you took the rest of the day off. You shouldn’t overexert yourself.”

Light shook his head and smiled. “Thank you, Ryuzaki, but there’s no need. As I said, I should be fine after I clear my head for a few minutes.”

And with that, he stood from his chair and left the room.

 

* * *

 

L was left staring at the door long after Light disappeared behind it, with the same fear as the previous night churning in his stomach.

_What... the hell...?_

“Light-kun isn’t acting like himself today,” remarked Aizawa.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” asked Soichiro Yagami, his voice tense with worry. “Maybe it’s the pressure finally getting to him. It’s too much for a boy his age to deal with something this big.”

L shook his head. “That’s not it. Pressure doesn’t break Light-kun - he thrives under it.”

“Then why is he acting so strangely if he’s not cracking under the pressure?”

“ _Ooh_ , I know!” Matsuda piped up excitedly. “Maybe he’s in love!”

L opened his mouth to snap at the idiot, but closed it immediately again because suddenly…

It all made sense.

_...God, I’m such an idiot._

He was suddenly overcome by the urge to burst out laughing. Instead, he approached Matsuda, who flinched a little, probably expecting to be scolded, and put his hands on the man’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye.

“Matsuda-san, you are a genius.”

Then he let go off the dumbstruck man and ran out of the investigation room.

 

* * *

 

 _It all makes sense,_ thought L as he ran up the stairs. He could’ve taken the elevator, but climbing the stairs all the way up to the roof would give him time to figure out how to deal with this. _Yes, it all makes sense now._

But at the same time… it didn’t.

_Why now?_

That was the bigger problem with this theory. Why would it happen now of all times?

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of this possibility before. Hadn’t he sensed the very beginnings of such feelings towards him way back, after that night with the warm milk? It had been very embarrassing when he realized that night that he’d been wrong before when he’d assumed that Light hated him - though, to be fair, the two emotions sometimes tended to manifest the same symptoms, especially when they concerned headstrong and fiercely independent people like Light. But ever since then, the possibility had become very clear that Light might actually have started to develop such feelings and he had taken the proper measures to severe them at their roots.

The measures had been very successful and, until yesterday, he’d been certain that there was no danger of Light ever falling for him. But today everything seemed to have changed.

 _Why now?_ the same question kept popping up.

It wasn’t hard to imagine the old Light - the one without his memories of being Kira - getting emotionally attached to him. If anything, it was completely natural and expected from him; a highly intelligent but inexperienced teenage boy who’d been surrounded by lesser people his whole life was more than likely to romanticize someone like L, despite him being physically unappealing.

But this Light, who killed and lied and manipulated and betrayed people like it was second nature? Not as likely - L wouldn’t give it more than a seven percent chance.

And even then, why would it occur now of all times? So soon after he regained his memories? Was it possible that he’d had these feelings since before he stopped being Kira and then the memory loss wiped them from his mind, so that they would return only now?

No, that didn’t make sense at all. There had been no indication of such a thing back then. Not to mention that, even after he’d become his old self again, such emotional turmoil hadn’t made its appearance until many hours later, after he woke up from that nightmare, at the same time the second change in Light’s personality took place. Before that, he’d been the same calm and confident Light he’d met months ago.

So, had that been the trigger? The nightmare?

It didn’t sound plausible - how could a brief night-terror change someone so completely? And yet, there was no other explanation.

L stopped a little to catch his breath. He leaned on the wall and clenched his eyes shut, as if the lack of visual input would make it easier for him to focus. It was no use; he could not figure this out, at least not without further clues. The problem was - he did not have much time to wait for such clues to surface. The case was moving too fast all of a sudden and Light was bound to make his move soon enough, now that all of the chess pieces were at their designated positions. L could almost _feel_ Death getting nearer and nearer, as if stalking its prey before attacking. If there was one thing that L trusted, one thing that had never failed him, it was his intuition, and now it was telling him that he did not have much time left. He had to make his move now.

And here lay the problem. What was his move going to be?

Two months ago, when he’d first sensed Light developing such feelings for him, he’d also been torn. Briefly, he had considered exploiting the situation - perhaps use these feelings to gain some sort of leverage over his enemy. Seduction was not his favorite weapon - even _he_ had some dignity - but the situation seemed dire enough to maybe warrant such drastic measures. In the end, however, he decided against it, deeming that the dangers were far greater than the possible benefits. Because seduction was a double-edged sword and - L had to admit - if anyone could reverse their positions and strike L with it instead, that was probably Light Yagami.

Now, though…

Now the balance between them had tipped drastically. L was losing. What he needed was time, and time was not on his side. The only way he could think of to delay the inevitable even a little bit - just enough for him to figure out how to turn the tables - was by exploiting this new weakness of his enemy’s that he’d just discovered. If he could just get Light to become that attached to him so as to make him hesitate in killing him for a little while, then maybe he still stood a chance.

L bit hard on his lower lip. He didn’t like this. This gamble was of the most dangerous and volatile kinds; one wrong move and he might be the one struck down. He didn’t want to admit it, but Light stood a better chance at seducing him. L, though no stranger to manipulation, tended to rely a lot less on it than his deductive skills. Light, on the other hand, would be right at his element. If this was the game they were going to play, then the odds were not in his favor.

Tricky. But he was L, and L never lost.

He pushed himself off the wall and climbed the rest of the stairs to the rooftop.

 

* * *

 

Light had no idea what he was doing.

The purpose had been to figure out all of these enigmas and understand what the hell was going on in his own head but, as he watched the red piece of candy fall to the ground, the only conclusion he drew was that he was probably losing his mind.

“Are those… my gummy bears?” he heard a disbelieving voice from behind him.

Light didn’t even bother to turn around. “Just the red ones,” he said. “Since you hate them, I figured you wouldn’t miss them.”

“...I never said I hated them.”

Light snorted as he dropped another gummy-bear and watched its descent. “You know, for someone who always commends my deductive skills, you seem to greatly underestimate my ability to put two and two together. Unless eating red candy has been proven to be connected to murderous intent, I can think of no other reason for why you keep passing them on to me.”

“...Fair enough.” L now came to stand beside him at the edge, his hands in his pockets. “Still, the fact that I do not prefer them does not mean that I condone their needless slaughter.”

Light suppressed a derisive snort.

_Trust L to be more concerned about the mistreatment of candy than of human beings._

“In any case,” L continued, “I cannot seem to imagine why someone would decide to drop gummy-bears from the roof.”

“That’s what I wanted to figure out,” murmured Light and made to drop another one, when suddenly L’s hand snatched it from his grip and put it in Light’s mouth before he could react.

L grinned a little at Light’s stunned expression. “Candy is for eating, Light-kun.”

Light swallowed the piece of candy and opened his mouth to retort, but he froze when he realized exactly how close they were. Again, a strong sense of deja-vu struck him and his muscles stiffened in anticipation of what would happen next.

He quickly averted his gaze and turned back to looking at the view of the big city that spread out in front of him, putting the rest of the gummy-bears in his pocket. He knew he should make his move soon - after all, how could he untangle this jumble of emotions and find a way to get rid of them without facing them first? - but he had no idea how to do that. L wasn’t Misa - he wouldn’t fall for pretty words and dazzling smiles. But then again, what would L possibly fall for? Was he capable of falling for anything at all?

He looked down at the street absent-mindedly. He wondered how his cat was doing. She was probably still in that alley, charming humans into giving her food and shredding the other cats that tried to steal it from her. He kind of missed her discreet presence and her quiet disapproval.

“Have you ever had a pet?” he asked L offhandedly.

L paused before he answered, surprised at the sudden change of topic. “No, I don’t think so.”

There it was again. _“I don’t think so.” “I think it was my mother who taught me.”_

“Have you?” asked L.

Light smiled wistfully. “Not really. In another life, perhaps.”

“Hmm…” L paused thoughtfully. “I always really wanted a cat.”

Light’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

L shrugged. “I think I used to play with stray cats when I was very little. Perhaps that is why I was always so fond of them.”

 _‘I think’,_ Light noted again. If L had thought it would be too risky to answer, he would have said so outright - no one who knew him would question it. L had an excellent memory. So, why did he seem so uncertain about some events from his past?

Ah, well, intriguing as figuring L’s past out was, it wasn’t really important right now, so he brushed it aside for the time being so that he could think more about the idea that just popped into his head. He was starting to work out the details in his head when L’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Is Light-kun going to tell me what that nightmare he had the previous night was?”

Light sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

Light tapped his finger against the metal railing as he planned the best response. He had already determined that pretty lies - or any kind of lie - would never work on L. The man was just too good at detecting them. Therefore, the best weapon against him would be the truth - or at least a version of it.

“I dreamed that Kira killed you.”

Light felt L stiffen beside him. A tense silence followed.

“...Is that true?” asked L at last.

Light turned and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t know, is it?”

L’s gaze was sharper than ever as it tried to pierce right into his soul and Light allowed it - just a glimpse into how wretched this past year had been, but it would be enough.

True enough, L’s eyes widened a fraction at what he found lurking in his gaze. “Oh.”

A ghost of a wry smile played on Light’s lips. “Oh, indeed.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, just looking at each other and trying to figure out where to go from there. The space between them was charged with static, electricity crackling. Then L finally made the decision and closed the distance between them.

It was just a small experimental brush of lips, but it took Light’s breath away and it urged him to search L’s lips again, for a longer and deeper kiss this time.

He didn’t know exactly how he ended up with L pressed against the railing, with his fingers tangled in his messy hair and their lips still locked together, their bodies flush against each other. Their positions were strongly reminiscent of that last dream he’d had right before he made the time-travel deal, the only difference being that L wasn’t trying to push him away, but instead kissing right back in a way that was trying - and nearly succeeding - to match his own fervor.

And, _god_ , the dreams could never compare to the real thing, because they were never able to fully recreate L’s presence; his taste, his scent, the softness of his lips and the solidness of his body against his. This was a whole new experience, even more thrilling and intoxicating than the fabricated substitute of his dreams, and Light thought he could drown in the sensation. It didn’t even matter that he knew L was only taking part in this so that he could find a way to defeat him - it was better this way, anyway, because it would make it a lot easier for Light to hate him again after he got enough of him.

When their lips separated, they were both flushed and breathless. They remained like that for a little while more, with L pinned against the railing by Light, as they caught their breath.

L cocked his head to the side, still panting somewhat. “We should probably head back. The others will be wondering where we disappeared.”

Light nodded but made no move to leave, and neither did L.

“...The work _is_ rather tedious, is it not?” admitted L as he lightly dragged a finger along the length of Light’s arm, making him shiver a bit.

“Quite,” agreed Light, the corner of his lips slightly quirking up in amusement at L’s manipulations.

“And can be easily done from our bedroom.” His finger was replaced by his palm, which slid over his shoulder and came to cup his face.

“I suppose we could do without the distraction of the rest of the team.”

“Mmm…” L started trailing light kisses along his jawline. “We definitely could.”

Light let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. “I know what you’re doing.”

L gave the tip of his chin a playful nip. “I was not trying to be covert. Light-kun is much too intelligent to fall for such tricks.”

Light chuckled slightly. “And now flattery. You seem to be rather well-versed in the art of seduction.”

“Ah, a respectable investigator should be seasoned in all methods of extracting information.”

He gave a delicate snort as he opened his eyes again. “There’s nothing respectable about this, Ryuzaki.”

L drew back a little and tilted his head to the side. “Why not? I’m not being dishonest or misleading about my intentions. If this is not agreeable to Light-kun, he can simply walk away.”

“If I could walk away, I would’ve done so already.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because every road seems to be coming back to you.”

Normally, Light was sure that L would have scoffed at such a cheesy line. Now, though, something about Light’s expression must have shown the very real anguish behind his words, because he seemed to have been rendered speechless for a few moments. “...Oh.”

Light sighed wearily and took a step back, already missing L’s warmth. “I’m going back to the investigation room.”

L didn’t protest this time. His earlier playful mood seemed to have vanquished and now he simply looked troubled. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Light just nodded and left.

 

* * *

 

_“I dreamed that Kira killed you.”_

In a way, it made sense. Though Light - at least, the one who had his memories of being Kira - had never seemed to waver, and his every action was pre-planned with a very clear goal in mind, perhaps he had never really stopped to consider what would come after the goal was achieved. In all honesty, L was the same. His only objective was to catch Kira - everything that would come afterwards was a dark vortex of vagueness and uncertainty. Even now he instinctively shied away from giving the matter any serious thought, suspecting that if he did, his resolve might falter.

Maybe Light had been doing the same thing - fixating on his goal with single-minded determination without dwelling on what the aftermath would bring, so that he would be able to do what he had to. But the subconscious was not something anyone could control - not even someone with as much willpower as Light - and it was bound to bring attention to issues perpetually ignored when the mind was at its most vulnerable - during sleep. And then, when finally struck with the reality of what he was going to do, he realized that maybe he wasn’t as ready to sacrifice everything as he had thought; hence, the sudden emotional turmoil.

Yes, it sounded logical. Except....

Except that didn’t sound like Kira at all. Childish, stubborn, self-important Kira would never resign himself to needing another person so easily - if ever. He would first go through every alternative explanation, or rationalize, or deny it altogether. He would test it, experiment, try the very limits of this attachment, seeking for a deal-breaker or, if worse came to worst, a substitute. He would never accept this demeaning reality so easily, unless he had exhausted every other possibility. Which he couldn’t have - it had only been a few hours since he had that nightmare, after all.

But…

_“If I could walk away, I would’ve done so already.”_

_“Why can’t you?”_

_“Because every road seems to be coming back to you.”_

Sometimes L really marveled at Light’s ability to deliver such over-the-top lines with a straight face and actually sound believable. It was truly an impressive skill. So, really, under normal circumstances, L wouldn’t have been surprised to hear him say something like that, accompanied by that tortured and haunted look that bled from his eyes and etched itself in the lines of his face - pain, after all, was easy enough to fake. No, what really got him was that very subtle - so subtle, in fact, that he was fairly certain Light himself hadn’t realized he’d let it show - hint of bitterness and resentment that bled insidiously into his voice and revealed the real despair lurking behind his mask.

His words spoke of naive youthful romance, but his delivery spoke of tragedy and entrapment.

 _“There’s no escape from you,”_ seemed to be the real meaning behind the statement, and that made no sense, because Light had never actively tried to escape him - except perhaps when he requested some time alone immediately after the nightmare occurred, but that hardly constituted as real effort to get away from L.  Quite on the contrary, from the very start Light had sought to get as close to him as possible in order to get intel on how he could defeat him.

L was clearly missing something - a very important piece of the puzzle without which the picture would be forever incomplete - and it drove him mad that he could not figure out what it was. And he hated that he had another such disadvantage to his enemy at such a crucial point in his investigation. It made him feel anxious and helpless, almost panicked. And, really, it didn’t help much that his mind was still reeling after that kiss, his body buzzing and his blood running hot in his veins. L couldn’t remember ever being kissed that intensely and it made him feel drunk and light-headed.

He bit hard on his lip. _Now is really not the time to be thinking about this._

L made the uncomfortable realization that his fingers were playing on his lap again - this time, Liszt’s _[Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2](https://youtu.be/FT36za3Gyos)_. He stilled them immediately. This was worrying in itself - he’d thought he’d kicked this habit long ago. Ever since he arrived at Wammy’s House, he’d decided to never play the piano again, as it triggered violent flashbacks and he had no time for that, but at times he was scared or distressed his fingers unconsciously sought comfort in the familiar keys.

It took him a while to grow out of it, mainly by replacing it with the solace from consuming sweets or typing on computer keyboards, but now that the pressure on him was so overwhelming the old habit seemed to have resurfaced. Even at this moment, his fingers were itching with the irresistible need to play and the agitated buzz caused by the suppression of this impulse made his brain unable to work at its high standards - much like sitting _“properly”_ debilitated his deductive skills. In the end, he gave in and allowed them to indulge in this urge, so that he could think more clearly.

_What am I missing? What could explain this?_

The only answer he could come up with was _time_. It wasn’t so much the change in Light that left him at a loss, but the fact that it occurred so suddenly, and this time without the factor of memory loss - or return thereof - being in play. Something must have happened - multiple somethings, actually - for Light to be so affected.

So, when did they happen? Light had been handcuffed to him until only a few hours ago, meaning that he’d always been close. Nothing could have happened without L knowing. Except…

Was it possible that _he_ had suffered memory loss? Perhaps something _did_ happen and he just couldn’t remember it? It wasn’t impossible, especially since it had happened before. If Light could lose his memories, then who was to say L couldn’t?

His lips twisted as a bitter taste settled in his mouth.

_Not again, goddammit._

If there was one thing L hated, it was not knowing, especially when it was something that had to do with _himself_ \- when it was something he definitely _should_ know.

He had to find out for sure.

L pushed off the railing and went back inside. Instead of going back to the investigation room, though, he went to find Watari.

Even if L’s memory was compromised, there were still the surveillance cameras. All he needed to do was review the video feed and make sure that everything had happened just as he remembered. Of course, it wasn’t impossible that the feed had been tampered with as well, but, under normal circumstances, L had an excellent memory; even if the slightest detail was different from what he remembered, then he’d be tipped off that something was amiss. And that was all he needed.

 

* * *

 

_October 30th, 2004_

It was only at five in the morning that L returned to their room. Which was why he was surprised to find Light wide awake on the bed, reading a book.

“Why are you still up?”

Light shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

L sat next to him on the bed. “How come?”

Light gave a wry smile as he closed his book and placed it on the bedside table. “It seems like I’ve gotten used to all the noise you make whenever you’re around. I don’t think I can sleep without it anymore.”

“Hmm…” That was new as well. Until yesterday he did nothing but complain about L’s refusal to keep quiet while he tried to sleep.

Reviewing the tapes had reaped no fruit; not a single thing had happened that did not match up to L’s memory. And not only that, but he’d had a chance to rewatch Light’s change again, and it was indeed as sudden and dramatic as he recalled. Nothing could explain it - at least nothing _natural_. And, unless Rem became any more forthcoming with her answers, a supernatural explanation was unlikely to come forward and make everything make sense again.

Thus, he was back to square one, which only rekindled his anxiety. To Light’s obvious surprise, L nestled close to him and rested his head on his shoulder. It was funny how the source of his distress had come to bring him comfort. His presence, his scent, his warmth, it was all so familiar to him now, in a way that no one else’s was. Apart from Wammy, he’d never spent so much time in such close quarters with another human being, and even Wammy was such a discreet presence that L could hardly tell sometimes that he was there.

Light, on the other hand, made sure that his presence in his life made as much impact as possible, so that without him, it would feel empty and dull, like it’d been before Kira appeared and everything became exciting once more.

“So, where were you?” asked Light, wrapping his arm around L and resting his chin on his head.

L nuzzled the crook of his neck. “Why do you want to know?”

He could almost hear Light’s eyeroll. “You still don’t trust me.” Surprisingly, it sounded more amused than indignant.

“Light-kun should not take it personally. I trust no one.”

“Do you also suspect everyone that they’re Kira?”

“No, they are way too stupid to be.”

A startled laugh escaped Light’s lips. “So I should take it as a compliment then?”

“You should. There’s a reason that I have fixated my investigation on you and not to your mother or your sister, for example.

“Why would you suspect my mother or my sister?” asked Light with just the right amount of confusion and alarm in his voice. His act really was flawless.

“Because your family and Assistant Director Kitamura‘s had been the ones the FBI agent Raye Penber had been assigned to watch and everything suggests that he had been the leak that led to the death of the FBI agents. Naturally, I would narrow down my investigation to these two families.”

“But how did you assume that I was the most likely suspect?”

“I told you already that I placed cameras in your house to watch you.”

“Yes, but-” He stopped and then turned so that he could look at L’s face. “Wait, does that mean that you watched _all of us_? Even my mother and my sister?”

L blinked up slowly at him, conveying just how unimpressed he was by his act. He wished Light would stop with these displays of righteous fury - they were really tiresome. “Of course, Light-kun. I’m nothing if not thorough.”

Light narrowed his eyes at him. “You really are despicable.”

L gave him an innocent little smile as he huddled even closer and started leaving delicate kisses at the length of his neck. “Then why do you like me?” he purred.

Light huffed, but L heard the slight hitch in his breath and he could feel the elevated pulse in his neck against his lips. Having that kind of power over Kira made L feel a little drunk, and a bit _too_ curious to find out how else he could make Light react to him. “I don’t know, maybe I like despicable.”

“Mmm, is that why Light-kun is so in love with himself?”

Light drew back to cock a disbelieving eyebrow at him, expression teetering between vexation and amusement. “Did you just call me despicable _and_ narcissistic in the same breath?”

“I most certainly did.”

The corner of Light’s lips twitched, settling on amusement. “Oh, then it must be really troublesome for you to try and seduce someone like that.”

L tipped his head to the side. “Why does Light-kun assume that I don’t like despicable as well?”

“Oh? Is that why you’re so hell-bent on stopping Kira from killing criminals? Because it would limit your options for a romantic partner?”

L was so amused by that statement that he decided not to raise his percentage for the obvious disdain he just showed towards criminals. Which Light had probably been counting on, because there was something smug about his grin. The sly bastard.

L was probably enjoying this way too much, which must have been why he was hesitating to take this to the next level. The familiarity and understanding between them felt a little _too_ right, a little _too_ comfortable. He could definitely get used to it, which was a scary scenario.

Still, he was L, and L did not yield so easily. So, he climbed on Light’s lap and planted a soft tantalizing kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid my standards are not quite so low.”

“No?” said Light with an arched eyebrow, brushing L’s bangs away from his face. “Does that mean you’re not in the habit of seducing _all_ of your suspects in order to solve a case?”

L pouted. “Does Light-kun underestimate my investigative skills so much as to assume that I would need to resort to such methods in every case?”

Light gave a small huff of laughter. “I find it very interesting that you felt the need to defend your investigative skills at my accusation instead of your morality.”

“I tend to use the strongest weapons in my arsenal.”

Light shook his head. “You know, the fact that you are so aware of your lack of moral code and still refuse to change that is even more infuriating than if you were oblivious to it.”

“And yet here you are,” he remarked, glancing at Light’s hands on his hips that kept him in place as L was straddling him.

“And yet here I am,” agreed Light with a rueful half-smile.

And L faltered again, because there it was again, that self-deprecating but resigned tone, and he still had no idea how to interpret that.

 _What happened to you?_ he wondered. _And where was I when it did?_

Light sighed and dropped his hands from L’s hips. “I should probably sleep a little if I want to be functional tomorrow.”

“Mm-hmm,” said L and climbed off his lap distractedly, mind too full for him to be able to make any more progress tonight.

Light stood and switched off the light before he came to lie down on the bed again. “You should sleep a little as well.”

“I will think about it,” lied L as he picked up his laptop from the bedside table and turned it on. “Does Light-kun wish me to be extra noisy with my typing to help him sleep?”

Light snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

L smiled, amused, and did just that, typing on the keyboard in the most obnoxious manner possible. True enough, Light’s eyelids started to droop pretty soon and, after leaving out a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep.

L paused in his typing and looked at Light’s sleeping face in the dim city-lights coming from outside. Peaceful and relaxed, with the lines on its forehead smoothed out and long eyelashes caressing its cheeks, it looked innocent and completely harmless. Seeing him like that, it was difficult to imagine that this boy was capable of mass murder of the biggest scale. And yet he was; and he was all the more dangerous in how harmless he looked, even awake.

L needed to be careful - _very_ careful - if he wanted to make out of this alive, and, more importantly, with his heart intact.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Misa was finally released from headquarters, so Light could give her her instructions. When she fell into his arms at the lobby, Light shifted slightly so that the cameras wouldn’t be able to capture his mouth and whispered in her ear.

“Misa, I want you to do something for me, so listen carefully.”

Misa squeezed him a little, showing that she was listening.

Light continued. “I want you to go to the location I will give you and dig up a package. Inside the package, you will find a black notebook. You must not touch that notebook at any point, so wear gloves. First, I want you to burn the letter inside the notebook without reading it. Then you will put the notebook under your jacket but over your blouse, so that it won’t touch your skin, and you’ll come back here to see me. Make sure that it’s well hidden under your jacket, okay?”

Misa squeezed him again, so Light went on to give her the location of the Death Note. Before he let go, he gave her one last direction, “Now, I want you to put on your best performance. Once I let you go, I want you to burst into tears and nod. Then ask me if you can still come see me tomorrow. Can you do that?”

Another squeeze - harder this time, as if offended - so Light pulled back from his embrace. Misa, to her credit, put on a perfect act; tears started streaming down her face on command and she nodded sadly.

“Can I still come and see you tomorrow?” she asked, sniffling.

Light gave her a kind smile. “Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we? Besides, there's a favor I wish to ask of you, if that's alright."

Misa wiped her eyes and nodded determinedly, though her bottom lip was still quivering. "Of course. Whatever it is, Misa will do it! What is it?"

"Well, it's Ryuzaki's birthday tomorrow and I wish to surprise him. Now, here's what I want you to do," he said before he leaned in and started whispering in her ear. Misa's eyes widened at his new instructions, but she nodded again nonetheless before she turned to leave.

 _Well,_ he thought as he watched her step outside with one last wave at his direction, more lackluster than usual, _it remains to be seen whether this was the right decision._

Rem was dangerous to keep around - that much was certain - and finding a different way to kill her would definitely not be a walk in the park. But there was also Ryuk to think about now, who could potentially prove to be just as dangerous as her.

Light suppressed the urge to scowl as he made his way back to the investigation room. _Shinigami are way more trouble than they're worth._

But, at least being on the move again made him feel more like himself now. Juggling seemingly unsolvable problems and battling nearly insuperable odds sharpened his focus to an astounding level and, for that, he should probably feel grateful.

Unsurprisingly, he found the rest of the task-force gathered around the monitors, shamelessly spying on them, and it was with great effort that he held back the urge to roll his eyes when everyone turned to face him.

“Light-kun, what did you tell Misa-Misa to make her cry?!” exclaimed Matsuda.

“Matsuda, don’t be so nosy,” scolded Aizawa, exasperated.

“It’s alright,” said Light graciously as he retook his seat. “I told her that I wanted us to stay just friends.”

L, who was still seated at his chair, turned his head to cock an eyebrow at him, unseen by everyone else. Light ignored him.

“Light, why did you tell her that?” asked his father, confused. “Didn’t you say the other day that you were starting to have feelings for her?”

Light smiled sheepishly. “I thought about it in more depth and realized that I must have mistaken gratitude and respect for something more.  I was confused, but now I think I got it all sorted out.”

Light was the only one who saw L give an exaggerated eyeroll at his words before he turned back to the monitors and he suddenly had to hide his annoyance.

“Aww, poor Misa-Misa got her heart broken again,” said Matsuda sadly. “And after everything she did to win over Light-kun’s heart!”

“Well, I believe it is better this way,” said Soichiro seriously, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It would have been much more cruel if Light led her on without being certain about his own feelings.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought as well,” said Light with a sigh. “At least now she can work on forgetting about me and look for someone else more worthy of her love.”

“That’s going to be hard though, isn’t it?” said Matsuda with a thoughtful frown. “I mean, how many guys are out there that are both good-looking and smart enough to impress even L?”

“Less than a handful, I assure you,” said L.

“I’m sure Misa will find the right person for her,” said Light good-naturedly. “Someone as beautiful and sweet as her cannot fail at finding love.”

“Hmm, it is a little odd, though, that Light-kun would not find someone _‘as beautiful and sweet as her’_ to his liking,” said L, pressing his finger to his mouth. “I wonder why that is?”

Light shot him a covert glare. The other man just gave a little shrug, the corner of his lips quirking up slightly.

“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Matsuda. “Maybe he’s in love with someone else! That would explain why he was so distracted yesterday!”

“With whom?” asked Soichiro, looking slightly alarmed.

“I don’t know… Maybe one of the girls he dated at To-Oh?”

“Wait,” said Light, managing an embarrassed blush, “how do you guys know about-” He stopped abruptly and turned to send an accusative glare at L. “Don’t tell me…”

Mogi gave Light a guilty smile. “I’m sorry, Light-kun. It was for the sake of the investigation.”

L just shrugged. “Since Light-kun was my main suspect at the time, it was important to know with whom he was close, in order to determine who was the Second Kira.”

“Ryuzaki, there’s got to be a line-” He left his sentence unfinished and sighed heavily as he shook his head, looking resigned. “Never mind. It’s not like you haven’t done worse.”

“And yet, Light-kun insists on assisting me in my investigation, even though he’s now free to do as he pleases,” L pointed out with a bird-like tilt of his head.

“Hmm…” Matsuda puckered his lips as he thought. “Maybe the person he’s in love with is here and that’s why he doesn’t want to leave?”

“Ah, maybe it’s Matsuda-san the one Light-kun is in love with,” said L with a raised finger, and Light thought the detective was having way too much fun at his expense.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ryuzaki,” said Light, rolling his eyes. Then, to Matsuda, “No offense, Matsuda-san.”

“How is _that_ not offensive?” whined Matsuda.

“Matsuda, act your age,” said Soichiro exasperatedly, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Captain! But, if not me, then who could Light-kun be in love with?”

“Mmm, maybe Mogi-san?” suggested L, making the large stoic man blush in embarrassment.

“No way! Mogi is _way_ too serious.”

“But Light-kun looks like the type who would appreciate serious people,” said Aizawa thoughtfully, drawn into the conversation despite himself.

“Yeah, but Mogi doesn’t speak at all!” said Matsuda. “I’m sure Light-kun would like someone he could have _long_ serious talks with. You know, the kind that no one else could understand, because they’re not smart enough.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean like the ones he has with-”

Everyone’s eyes turned to look at L, who was currently taking a bite from the cheesecake Watari had just brought for him. He stopped licking his spoon when he saw he was being stared at and blinked at them with a feigned obliviousness that reminded Light of his cat. “What?”

“Eh?! No way!” exclaimed Matsuda. “There’s no way Light-kun’s in love with Ryuzaki! They’re always fighting, aren’t they?”

L widened his eyes comically. “Light-kun in love with me?” He shook his head, looking mystified. “That is preposterous. Light-kun detests me.”

Aizawa did not look convinced, and neither did Light’s father, whose gaze darted between his son and the world’s greatest detective with alarm. Light decided he needed to intervene.

“Ryuzaki, I do not detest you, but neither am I in love with you - or anyone else in here for that matter,” he said firmly. “I’m staying here because I want to see justice served and nothing more. And I would appreciate it if everyone stopped talking about me as if I wasn’t here.”

Matsuda and Aizawa had the decency to look sheepish. “We are sorry, Light-kun,” said Aizawa, embarrassed for getting carried away. “You are right, of course.”

“Yeah, sorry, Light-kun,” said Matsuda with a sheepish smile, rubbing his nape. “It won’t happen again.”

Light sighed. “It’s fine. Now, shouldn’t we get back to work?”

Everyone rushed to get back to their workstations. Unfortunately, Light noticed that his father still looked uneasy and suspicious and he felt like he wanted to smack himself in the face - or, preferably, L’s face, who looked thoroughly entertained. And yet, his own lips twitched as well, suppressing an amused smile.

 _Well, things are definitely not boring around here anymore,_ he thought. _Not with you around._

It was a scary thought.

What was even scarier, was how relaxed and at ease Light felt today compared to the day before, or to the whole year preceding it, or how well he had managed to sleep last night with L's familiar noise filling the silence, or how he found himself thinking that L's mischievous side was just as delightful as it was infuriating. Because it really shouldn't have been that easy for L to drag him out of the misery that plagued him for months and months after a single day with his witty comebacks and his teasing flirtations and his messing around with the task-force just for kicks.

A slight prickling at the back of his neck snapped him out of his thoughts and he covertly turned his head to see who was staring at him. His gaze fell on Rem’s one visible eye, that was looking at him with an intense gaze. At the minuscule rise of Light’s one eyebrow, her gaze lifted to look above his head and he understood. She’d finally noticed that his lifespan had shortened by one year. Light sent her a look that said _‘I’ll explain later’_ and turned back to his computer screen before L noticed.

Fortunately L had been merrily digging in the slice of cheesecake Watari had just brought him and had missed the brief exchange. He looked significantly more cheerful today; presumably, being on the offensive again had lifted his spirits. Looking at him excitedly stuffing his face with sweets made the corner of Light's lips quirk up imperceptibly, even as anxiety roiled in his stomach.

_What am I going to do with you?_

 

* * *

 

 

_October 31st, 2004_

“I think I should warn you,” said Light the next day as the two of them were waiting for the elevator to take them down to the investigation room after lunch break.

“About how you are planning to kill me?” asked L, tilting his head to the side. "Or will Light-kun finally deign to tell me what he whispered in Misa-san's ear yesterday?"

Light sighed. “Like I said to you a million times since yesterday, it's a surprise, and you will find out soon enough anyway. No, what I wanted to tell you is that Matsuda is organizing a sort of surprise party for your birthday.”

“Yes, I figured that much out by myself, thank you very much.” He sounded almost offended that Light felt he needed to point it out to him. “Matsuda-san was not exactly stealthy in his preparations, surprisingly enough.”

Light rolled his eyes. “I know. That’s why I’m telling you, because I want you to act surprised - pleasantly surprised.”

L blinked at him, for once looking genuinely clueless. “Why?”

“Because Matsuda-san will be insufferable if you spoil his party and I’d really rather not deal with that.” This wasn’t just an educated guess on Light’s part. This was exactly what had happened last time, when L had just given the group an unimpressed look before he walked around them towards his chair and went back to work, ignoring the party-preparations. He’d greatly regretted it later though, when Matsuda wouldn’t stop whining and sighing dramatically for two whole days, disrupting their work.

L grimaced, probably envisioning the exact same happenings in his head as if he had experienced them as well. “...You have a point.”

“And please smile and say thank you when they give you the presents they bought you.”

L bristled. “Light-kun sounds a lot like Watari right now.”

The elevator arrived with a _ding_ and the two of them walked inside when the door slid open. “Well, Watari-san is busy in the control room at the moment, so somebody’s got to shoulder the responsibility of keeping you in check in his stead.”

“I’m the world’s greatest detective,” mumbled L sulkily. “I do not need a babysitter.”

“You do, if you keep acting like an over-sized baby.”

L’s lower lip stuck out in such a childish pout that only proved Light’s point. It was strangely endearing. “Light-kun is so mean.”

“For someone who’s convinced that I am an evil mass murderer, you sound strangely surprised.”

L shrugged. “Mean and evil are not the same thing. Evil is an innate quality; mean is about outward behavior. Though evil in his core, Light-kun takes great pains in displaying impeccable behavior so as to avoid suspicion.”

“...You have an answer for everything.”

“That is something you and I have in common.”

The elevator finally stopped and the two of them took a deep breath, drawing every last drop from the wells of their patience in order to endure the upcoming charade. Then they made their way to the dark investigation room.

 

* * *

 

The party wasn’t anything extravagant - just the task-force, along with Aiber and Wedy, relaxing and chatting together with snacks and drinks, while upbeat music played on the background. At some point, Matsuda suggested playing party-games, but it was promptly declined by everyone except for Aiber, and his compromise to just play simple, SFW board-games backfired when every game soon turned into a heated duel between Light and L after everyone else got eliminated, leading to the idea finally being abandoned.

So, really, it wasn’t as bad as Light had feared as he conversed with Mogi and Aizawa about one of the cases he had helped his father solve in the past. He was sure L didn’t feel the same way, though, because he kept throwing Light miserable, pitiable looks across the room while a slightly tipsy Matsuda chattered his ear off about his favorite idols with a mischievous and way-too-amused Aiber egging him on. And perhaps Light might have considered rescuing him from his plight if he wasn’t so amused himself, and just a little bit spiteful.

It was as he tore his eyes from L’s again after another silent plea was directed at him from the miserable detective that he noticed his father looking at him from where he was talking with Wedy with a deep wrinkle etched between his eyebrows and Light suppressed a sigh as he tuned back into his conversation. He wasn’t too thrilled about his father suspecting that there was something more to his relationship with L than simple friendship or rivalry - mainly because he was still planning on moving in with Misa after L died. Perhaps he could make it seem like Misa was comforting him about L’s death and that this would slowly lead to him developing romantic feelings towards her. And maybe having a crush on his friend would make him seem more human to the other members of the task-force and tarnish a little the suspiciously perfect image he had constructed.

Truthfully, the real reason why this was disconcerting wasn’t that it was messing with his plans - that could be easily fixed as soon as L was out of the picture - but because it was completely unintentional on Light’s part. He didn’t like the idea that his mask had grown too transparent, because who knew what else he might let slip while he was distracted by L and his own confusing emotions. This feeling of a lack of control was more than unsettling - it was terrifying.

Thankfully, it was at that moment that Watari discreetly caught his eye from the doorway and Light took the opportunity to excuse himself to approach the white-haired man.

Watari bowed his head respectfully when Light got close enough. “Amane-san is here.”

Light gave him a polite smile. “Thank you, Watari-san. I appreciate your help.”

Watari offered a small smile of his own and they started to walk together towards the lobby. “Not at all, Yagami-kun. I must admit, I am a little… touched by this gesture of yours, even if I suspect your motives are not entirely pure.”

Light’s smile took a wry tilt. “So, you share Ryuzaki’s suspicions, I presume.”

“I trust his judgment. If Ryuzaki is certain you are Kira, then you most likely are. Even so, right now I cannot help but secretly hope he is wrong, just this once.”

He blinked, surprised. “How come?”

They stopped walking as they reached the entryway and Watari turned to face him completely. “Because, no matter your motives, this particular gesture… It requires a certain understanding of Ryuzaki that I am not sure many have achieved or will achieve - if ever. I would hate for him to lose that, especially since, as his caretaker, I feel I am at least partly to blame for how distant and reclusive he has become.”

Light had to make an effort not to frown. “I… Honestly, I did not think this would mean as much to him as you now allude it will. I simply took note of something he told me he wanted and decided to give it to him.”

“Even if he said he wanted it, Yagami-kun, we both know very well that not everything Ryuzaki says is to be taken at face value. It could have been a lie, or a bait, or a way to look more human, or even a way to seem like he was making an effort to share things with you. For some reason, though, you believed he was honest, and I can’t help thinking you might have seen more into his words than even you are fully conscious of.” He repositioned his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I might be mistaken of course. In any case, let us not keep Amane-san waiting. If you will excuse me, I need to return to the control room,” he said and, with another bow, he walked away, leaving Light feeling even more troubled and uneasy than before.

 _Transparent,_ he thought with an involuntary shudder, before he shook it off and went to meet Misa.

Once he was outside, Misa’s whole face lit up. “Light!” she squealed and rushed to let down the ball of black fur resting in her arms, as well as the bag she was carrying, to hug him. Light, angling her right again so that his movements wouldn’t be visible to the cameras, slipped a finger underneath her jacket and it connected with the corner of the notebook.

As he separated from her and exchanged the necessary pleasantries, he covertly glanced around to make sure that Ryuk wasn’t already there; thankfully the Shinigami’s tall, hunched form was not yet in sight, meaning that Misa really hadn’t touched the Death Note yet, just like he’d instructed. So now Light was the owner of both Death Notes.

Soon enough, the flapping of wings was heard and Ryuk landed near them. “Finally! I thought you’d leave me in the Shinigami realm and have me miss all the fun!”

Light held back a huff. He’d like nothing more than to do that - or at least pass him off to Misa like he did last time - but he knew that Ryuk would not be satisfied with missing all the action. If the Shinigami wasn’t satisfied with the entertainment, then he could just kill Light - or, if he was reluctant to part with his favorite human so soon, he could kill someone close to Light as a warning, like his parents or Sayu. Needless killing of innocents went against everything Light stood for, so he couldn’t allow that. Since Light didn’t need Rem to kill L this time anyway, it would be better to just tolerate the Shinigami’s annoying presence.

He turned back to Misa. “Thank you for doing this for me, Misa. I knew I could trust you with this.”

Her cheeks turned pink at the praise, eyes glittering with pleasure and happiness. “Misa would do anything for her Light.”

“And I truly appreciate it.”

“Though, I don’t understand why you would ask for… _this_ ,” she added with a frown, looking down at the cat that was currently watching Light with curious eyes.

“I promise, it’s all part of the plan. You trust me, don’t you, Misa?”

Misa’s eyes widened, scandalized. “Of course I trust you! Misa would jump off a cliff if you told her to!”

Light gave her a sweet smile. “I know you would, and it’s a great relief for me to know that I can count on you so completely. Now, there’s one last thing I want you to do.”

“Name it! Misa will do it!”

“After you leave, I want you to bury the notebook again exactly where you found it, but before you do that, tear out a page and keep it on you at all times, just in case.”

Misa nodded. “Can I touch it now, or do I still need to wear gloves?”

“You can touch it, but be warned that there is a Shinigami haunting me now, so don’t be startled when you see it.”

“You mean someone other than Rem?”

“Yes, though Rem is also nearby.”

“Okay,” said Misa, unconcerned with the increasing number of Shinigami. “So when are we going on a date?”

Light suppressed a sigh. Just when he had started to appreciate her blind devotion and obedience, she started with the nonsense again. “Misa, you know I can’t do that. The reason I asked you to give that performance earlier was because I needed Ryuzaki to have no doubts that we are nothing more than friends.”

“But Misa doesn’t want to be just friends!” she protested sulkily.

“Yes, I know,” said Light mildly, putting his hands on her shoulders to appease her. “Believe me, I don’t like this either. But it’s only for a little while, until L is out of the picture.”

“Can’t you just kill L now and then go on dates with me?”

“I can’t, Misa. If L dies right after he released you and me, all suspicion will fall on us - especially you - and then we will be executed and our dream of a perfect world without evil will be destroyed. Is that what you want?”

Misa pouted, but in the end she conceded, “No.”

Light gave her a warm smile that he knew would make her melt and embraced her again. “I knew you’d understand. We just have to be a little patient, that’s all. Very soon, it will be just us, in our beautiful crime-free world.”

Misa sagged in his arms. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“...Okay then. I’ll wait.”

Light let her go. “Thank you, Misa. I knew you would understand.”

“But I can still come and see you, right?”

“Of course, but only for a little while, like this, so that Ryuzaki won’t get suspicious. Now, I need to go before anyone starts wondering what’s taking me so long, so be a good girl and do what I asked you to, okay?”

She nodded with a wide smile and skipped away. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you,” said Light, keeping the smile on his face until she disappeared around the corner. Then he kneeled down to pick up the cat and the bag with the essentials for pet-care Misa had gotten for him and made his way inside.

The second he reentered the investigation room, L’s eyes instantly turned towards him and, when he noticed his cargo, he froze, jaw slackening and eyes widening impossibly more with very real surprise. His expression was unusual enough that even Matsuda noticed and he followed his gaze, gasping loudly when his eyes fell on the cat he was cradling, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“Who is _this_ cutie?” he gushed with wide-eyed excitement.

Light held back an eyeroll as he put down the large bag and approached L, who was still staring at the cat with something like dumbfounded awe. “ _This_ is my present to Ryuzaki,” he said with a warm smile, gently proffering the black cat with the clever eyes and the now-clean but still long and wild jet-black fur; he had warned Misa that, though the cat was completely docile through the washing, she would scratch you to oblivion once you took out the scissors. “Happy birthday.”

L opened and closed his mouth wordlessly a few times, for once rendered speechless. Eventually he gave up on trying to form coherent sentences and instead he reached out hesitantly towards the cat, who was eyeing him curiously, with a faux-innocent tilt of her head. L carefully picked her up in his arms and looked at her with the same curiosity - it was funny and kind of  endearing how similar they looked like this.

Wedy scoffed, though it mostly sounded amused rather than derisive. “Great. Now there’s two of them.”

“It’s uncanny,” Matsuda stage-whispered.

Then, L’s lips stretched in an amused smile, which made Light think that he had noticed the intelligent spark in her eyes as well. “What’s her name?” he asked Light.

He shrugged. “She’s yours. You can name her anything you want.” Last time, he had let Misa name her and, of course, she had picked something so disgustingly cutesy that he had never once uttered it out-loud, referring to her simply as ‘the cat’.

“Oh.” L bit his lip in contemplation. “How about… C?”

Light laughed. “Thank god deductive skills are not directly proportionate to creative imagination, because you have none.”

L stuck out his lower lip sulkily. “But I like C.”

“Then we’ll call her C, if that’s what makes you happy.”

L’s responsive smile was tiny, but it was warmer and more genuine than nearly any he had given before. “Thank you, Light-kun. I… I really love your present.”

It was… unexpectedly sincere, and Light was thrown a bit off-balance by it. “You’re very welcome,” he said, but his own smile was a little strained. From the intense prickling on his nape, Light could tell even without turning around that Rem was staring at him from her corner and he tried to stop himself from tensing up. He should really take care of this soon, before the overprotective Shinigami killed him on suspicion of him fraternizing with the enemy.

The rest of the evening, L gave up on humoring Matsuda and instead passed his time crouched down on the floor and playing with his new pet. He looked inexplicably happy, and Light couldn’t help but think back on Watari’s words, wondering if some part of him really had managed to see right through L’s casual words without realizing it, before he shook off these pointless thoughts and turned his attention back to the others, who had sat around the coffee-table to listen to Wedy and Aiber recount some of their old exploits, while Matsuda gasped in awe and babbled out too many questions.

Still, Watari’s observations and the feeling of Rem watching his every move never really left his mind for the rest of the evening.

“She’s amazing,” L told him later in the night, as they waited for the elevator to take them back to their room, C snoozing in his arms. “It has only been a couple of hours and she has already learned to respond to her name and memorized four different commands. Such an intelligent animal, she must have cost you a fortune.”

“Not really. She was actually a stray.”

L blinked before he looked down at the cat cradled in his arms. “Oh. Where did you find her?”

“In an alley on my way to home from To-Oh. I thought she looked familiar, so I decided to investigate further.” Light grinned a little. “I wasn’t disappointed.”

L looked at him and smiled as well and he looked really calm and content in this moment. “I have to admit, though, I did not expect this,” he said. “I was fairly certain Light-kun would take advantage of my birthday to romance me, but not like this. I thought he would try to impress me or intrigue me with his present, not-”

“-make you happy?” Light completed his sentence with a raised eyebrow as they walked into the elevator. “You really think too highly of me.”

“Indeed, I underestimated you. I knew you were manipulative, but your methods of getting others to like you were always too cliche and superficial - ones you would expect to see in a Ryuga Hideki movie. Today you really outdid yourself with such a thoughtful gesture. I’m… impressed. And a little daunted.”

“Thank you,” said Light sarcastically. “I’m so glad you approve of my methods of emotional manipulation.”

L’s eyes twinkled. “Light-kun is very welcome.”

Light sighed exasperatedly. “And if I told you that my real purpose behind this gesture was, actually, to make you happy?”

“Meh. It would sound too much like a Ryuga Hideki line again.”

Light sighed again, this time forcing the lingering tension out of his muscles as the elevator stopped at their floor and they stepped out of it. He should just relax and enjoy this... whatever this was while it lasted, shoving his worries in the back of his mind for now to be dealt with at a later time. “I thought as much.”

 

* * *

 

_November 1st, 2004_

Light woke up in silence - almost the same otherworldly silence from his dream - and panic started squeezing his windpipe until he could hardly breathe. He quickly turned around, expecting to find the other side of the bed empty or – god forbid – occupied by Misa.

For a few moments he stared at the figure lying next to him like he couldn’t process what his eyes were telling his brain. Then it registered.

_He’s here. He’s still here._

And then the hand around his throat was gone and he could breathe again. It took him a little while for his heart-rate to steady itself and his breathing to even out, and a little longer to wonder at the nearly unprecedented phenomenon of L actually sleeping normally in the bed. He was probably knocked out from his exhaustion from dealing with Matsuda for so many hours, or lulled to slumber by C’s purring, who was also dozing, curled up close to L’s chest.

Light sighed, letting L’s slow, soft breaths and C’s low purrs anchor him to the present, and he found himself feeling uncharacteristically soft as he threaded his fingers through thick dark hair splayed on the pillow next to his. The atmosphere in their quiet bedroom was tranquil and peaceful, the silence and stillness for once calming instead of heavy and disconcerting.

Light could feel his mind turning blissfully blank, for once not swirling with anxious thoughts about what the future would bring - a future much too precarious and uncertain despite his having already experienced a version of it. He could just let all of this go for a little while, suspended in this rare lull in activity - the calm before the storm.

He was just starting to drift off again as well when a blurry skeletal shape with white wings passed in front of the window in a flash as it flew upwards, bringing him back to reality. He sat up slowly, feeling incredibly heavy, and for a few moments he just sat at the edge of the bed, postponing the inevitable return to the real world. But the peace had already been disrupted, unease already crawling under his skin, and he resigned himself to his fate, standing up and making his way to the elevator, a snickering Ryuk at his heels.

Up at the rooftop, Rem’s tall form hovered high over the railing, in the surveillance camera's blind spot, gazing at the city below with disinterest. “You have some explaining to do,” she said when he came to stand below her. Her gaze shifted towards the other Shinigami, who was watching them with curiosity. “And so do you.”

Ryuk looked around him like he expected to find someone else there before he pointed a finger at himself. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Rem’s yellow eye narrowed. “Why has his lifespan shortened?”

Ryuk’s demeanor turned shifty and he started fidgeting nervously. “Uh, well…”

“What would your guess be, Rem?” asked Light as he casually leaned over the railing, supporting his elbows on top of it, knowing that the cameras wouldn't be able to capture his mouth in this angle.

“My guess?” Rem did not sound like she appreciated the evasiveness, turning more suspicious by the second.

Light just smiled. “Humor me.”

The female Shinigami moved a little forward and turned so that she could easily glare at his face, but she answered the question nonetheless. “A person’s lifespan is predetermined, assigned to them at birth. The time of their death is set in stone, unless a Death Note changes that, and even then their lifespan doesn’t visibly change until the conditions for their death are met. The only way a person’s lifespan can change ahead of time is through a deal with a Shinigami.” She sent an accusatory glare at Ryuk’s direction, who flinched a little. “At the moment, the only deal with humans that is permitted by the Shinigami laws is the deal for the eyes, and the price is always half of the human’s remaining lifespan.”

“But this is not the case here, right?” guessed Light. It was good to know that his original lifespan hadn’t been so short as two years - though, now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that one year had been more than half his original lifespan and that was why it didn’t meet the criteria. If that was the case and Light now had less than a year left to live, then L had effectively defeated him without moving a finger.

Lovely.

“No, it isn’t,” Rem reluctantly agreed. “Which means this deal was against the law.”

“Excellently reasoned,” commended Light with a smile. “You would have made a fine detective if you were a human.”

The hatred burning quietly in her gaze only intensified at Light’s patronizing tone. “So, which deal was it and why did you make it?” she demanded. “Someone as conceited and self-serving as you would never sacrifice a whole year of their precious life for nothing. Something must have happened.”

 _Where was that sharpness when you were being interrogated by L?_ Light thought at her irritably. He would have been spared a lot of headaches if she had appeared less suspiciously clueless, bordering on uncooperative.

“L took me by surprise,” he said eventually, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “It would have all been over if I hadn’t made the time-travel deal and come back here to bring things back on track.”

Rem’s eye widened a fraction. “Is Misa in danger?”

Light fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Misa is as safe as she can possibly be,” he said. “At the moment, all of L’s attention is focused on me, so she is out of the line of fire.”

“Is that why you and the detective seem so close all of a sudden?” questioned Rem, narrowing her eye at him suspiciously. “You are diverting his attention to yourself so that Misa can be free?”

“Not only.” Rem would never believe that he would do something so selfless. “I need to gain his trust in order to get his name.”

Rem searched his face for any sign of deceit, but no one short of L could ever hope to read him. “I hope you are telling the truth, Yagami Light - for your sake. Because, if I sense that your loyalties have shifted…” She trailed off, her hard gaze leaving no room for doubt about how that sentence ended.

“Don’t worry,” he said, for his own sake just as much as hers. “They haven’t.”

 

* * *

 

His nightmare was always the same. Two rough hands grabbing him and pulling him out from where he was curled up under the piano like a ragdoll. A woman bleeding out on the floor, her dark eyes filled with tears and a pale hand reaching futilely towards him, mouthing out _“I’m sorry”_. A wooden bat whooshing in a wide arc towards his head, seemingly in slow motion. All of it underlined by the sound of the piano, Mozart’s light, chipper notes ringing obscenely in his head, a mere echo from just a few minutes ago when everything was still fine.

He always woke up when the bat hit his head. This time, though, everything changed when the bat made contact, starting with the pain that exploded in his chest instead of striking him at the side of his head.

Even more unexpected than that were the arms that wrapped around him in mid-air as he fell, cushioning the impact with the floor. He looked up, eyes wide in agony and surprise, and he was met with the sight of two very familiar brown eyes that had no place in this particular dream.

_...L- Light?_

Yes, it was him looking down at L as he held him in his arms, even if his face was contorted into an ugly, triumphant grin he’d never seen before. And, somehow, L immediately knew what was going on.

_I think… I’m dying._

Was that why the sound of the piano was replaced by bells?

L kept staring up at Light’s grotesque smirk for as long as he could amidst the unimaginable pain squeezing his heart mercilessly, even as darkness started to eat away at the edges of his vision.

 _Ah,_ he thought as the last of his strength was leaving his body along with the pain, his eyes slowly closing. _So, I wasn’t wrong…_

_...But… I…_

L’s eyes flew open.

He was alert at once, quickly taking in his surroundings like he had trained himself to do upon waking up. Stark white walls; a window showing the Tokyo skyline; a Pissarro painting of a rainy afternoon in Paris; a nightstand with a digital clock displaying 02:58; a double-bed with its other side recently vacated, judging by the warmth lingering on the pillow next to his and the state of the sheets.

 _Safe,_ he determined. _I’m safe._

He slowly uncoiled himself from the tight ball he had curled into in his sleep and sat up, trying to steady his breathing and his racing heart and to hold down the bile that had almost reached the bottom of his throat. After a while, his breathing got more even, but his heart was still hammering against his ribcage, as if to properly emphasize the fact that it had not failed him.

L hugged his knees close to his chest and rested his forehead on them, breathing out a slow, shaky breath.

_What was that?_

That nightmare - with the piano and the strange men and the bat - he’d had it a million times before, as long as he could remember himself. And, truthfully, it wasn’t the first time Light had sneaked into that nightmare in the last few months, replacing the man with the bat.

This was different, though. That last part… It was completely new - it didn’t resemble any dream he’d had before. And that crushing pain in his chest… It had felt way too real.

... _Dying_ felt too real.

_So, this is what’s expecting me if I lose._

A short huff of mirthless laughter left his lips, his arms tightening around his folded legs as his stomach lurched again nauseatingly.

_I suppose that settles it, then. I can’t lose._

Something warm and wet suddenly touched his hand and L nearly jumped right out of his skin, wound up tight as he was, but it was only the cat who stared back at him curiously when he looked, her snout only inches away from his laced-together hands.

“...Oh,” he said, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears, and he reached out to pet her head. “Hey.”

The cat nuzzled his hand and purred contently, making L smile despite himself. It probably sounded silly, but he couldn’t help thinking C had noticed his distress and chose this moment to distract him.

 _Shrewd, perceptive and manipulative - truly the cat of a detective,_ thought L with fond amusement.

And that was what was scary about this; not only had Light remembered something he’d mentioned he’d wanted once, realizing exactly how much he wanted it despite the offhanded manner he’d said it, but also, instead of simply instructing Misa to just walk into a pet-store and buy him the most adorable cat she could find, he made made sure to get him one he thought would be perfect for L specifically.

L already knew that Light was an excellent liar and manipulator, but this… This was different. This specific gesture required a deep understanding of L, to a degree no one had ever achieved - or really bothered to - before.

Not even L could manage not to feel the least bit touched by that, and it was terrifying.

He let out a shaky exhale. “What did I get myself into?” he murmured tiredly.

“Meow,” was C’s concise response and L gave another, slightly tremulous, smile.

“Ah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “In the end, this just means I need to get more serious about this if I want to keep up with him.”

Looking pleased with his estimation, the cat let out another mewl and jumped off the bed to wander off somewhere again.

It was only moments later that Light returned to their bedroom, eyes tired and hair wind-ruffled. “Hey,” he said softly as he took off the jacket he’d pulled on over his pajamas before he came to sit next to him on the bed. “Why are you up?”

“Nightmare,” was all L said, and it was enough for Light. “Why were you at the rooftop?”

“Nightmare,” said Light with a rueful smile, which L mirrored.

“Was it the same nightmare from before?” he asked.

“A similar one.”

“Oh.” L nibbled absently at the tip of his thumb. “How did I die?”

Light sighed wearily. “You fell from the rooftop.”

“...Huh.” At that moment, though, even that sounded better than a heart-attack. He could still feel that relentless squeezing around his heart again and it made him think he’d do anything never to feel that again. “Did the fresh air help?”

“Not really.”

L took note of the resigned droop of his shoulders, the tired dullness of his eyes and the heavy aura that settled around him, looking absolutely nothing like the cruel, grinning Light from his dream, and came to a decision. “I will be right back,” he said, hopping off the bed and making his way toward the kitchen before Light could ask where he was going.

He returned to the bedroom five minutes later, holding two steaming mugs. “Here,” he said, offering one to Light.

Light frowned, puzzled, but he took it nonetheless, and when he saw what was inside, he looked up at him in surprise. “...Milk?”

“You mentioned that it soothed you after a nightmare back when you were a kid.”

Light looked back at the mug cupped in his hands and the corners of his lips drew up in a small, weary smile. “You’re branching out to emotional manipulation now?”

L gave him a small, wry smile of his own, shrugging. “With such a formidable opponent, I have to use every weapon in my arsenal, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose, though your weapons would be better applied against someone who is actually an enemy.”

“They are applied against an enemy.”

A small, tired laugh left Light’s lips. “Why do I even bother.”

L just smiled and went to sit on the bed next to him again, and, for a while, all that could be heard in their dark bedroom was their quiet sips. Strangely enough, the milk did help soothe his nerves a little, its warmth and the sweetness of the honey he’d put inside spreading inside his chest and pushing away the memory of that horrid pain from his dream, even though he had made the milk himself.

Ah, but maybe it wasn’t being taken care of that brought him comfort; maybe it was sharing this comfort with someone who actually understood.

What a scary thought.

He wondered whether it had calmed Light down as well.

L had nearly finished his milk when Light spoke, “Can I ask you something?”

“You can. Whether I answer or not is a different story, though.”

“I thought as much,” said Light with a tired smile before he turned to look at him, eyes searching. “Why did you stop playing the piano?”

L stiffened, his hands tightening around the mug. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Light simply shrugged as he set the now empty mug on the nightstand.

L bit the inside of his cheek. The mere thought of sharing something so personal made his insides tie themselves into painfully tight knots, but intimate conversations like this strengthened emotional bonds. If he kept shutting down every line of communication between them, Light was bound to tire of him all too soon and then everything would be over for him.

In the end, he decided to find some middle-ground - not refusing to answer altogether, but not disclosing much either. “The piano is connected to one of my worst memories - one I’d rather not relive.”

Light nodded and, to L’s relief, didn’t pry further. He probably made the connection between this and his nightmares anyway. “But it brings you comfort as well,” he said instead, meeting L’s gaze. The faint moonlight caught the clear brown of his eyes and made them look even brighter than usual, almost golden. They were stunning, but what really shook L to his core was how they seemed to be able to see right through him, reading him like an open book. “Have you tried playing the piano after… after this incident?”

L shook his head, averting his gaze.

“Then how do you know that the comfort it brings you doesn’t outweigh the pain?”

L set his mug down on the floor and hugged his knees close to his chest, as if shielding his internal organs from an attack, or like an attempt to hold together his roiling stomach. “I don’t.”

He heard the headboard creak as Light leaned back on it. “It’s funny how these things work, isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“How the same things that make us happy can cause us just as much pain.”

Despite his better judgment, L turned to look at him and their eyes met. Something passed between them, in that moment, a unique sort of understanding that L had never experienced before. It was thrilling and frightening, as was Light’s presence in his life in general, making sparks come to life in his veins.

He wasn’t sure who was the one to initiate it - they probably both leaned in at the same time - but then they were kissing softly, barely moving against each other, just breathing each other in. After a few moments, he felt Light sigh against his lips and then he moved to deepen the kiss, his hand cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. L parted his lips, a silent invitation, and Light’s tongue slid between them, sliding against his own and bringing them impossibly closer, and L felt something tightly coiled in the bottom of his stomach slowly unwind.

And L knew that this was very dangerous, but he also knew that this was the nature of gambles - without risk, there was no gain. He could only win a fierce battle like this by risking everything, and L refused to lose without first giving it his all.

So he took the plunge, straddling Light’s legs and pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it carelessly aside, before he recaptured his lips, this time with pure intent, showing without a shadow of doubt that he was going to see this to the end.

And, of course, Light understood his intention instantly, because he stiffened just for a moment. But Light had never been one to run away from a challenge, so he met him head-on, giving back as good as he took and kissing him back with equal fervor, arms wrapping around him and pulling him flush against him.

Oh, and how L revelled in it, in this heated clash of bodies and spirits, in the way Light was answering every kiss, every bite, every touch with one of his own, because he’d waited for so, so long for someone to match him in every aspect, to challenge him and excite him and thrill him in every possible way, to make him feel this alive. And it was just as intoxicating, feeling Light’s need in his blazing eyes, in the urgent way his lips sought L’s, in the sting from his nails dragging down his back, in the desperate way he held him close - and the fact that he knew that it was intentional, that Light was letting all of this show _because_ he wanted L to feel drunk on power, didn’t dampen the thrill of it at the slightest, because L wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was only when he finally came down from that unparalleled high after they had both spent themselves, wrapped up in each other’s arms, bodies sticky with sweat and come, that he let the thought he had skirted around for so long fully form in his head.

_Life is going to be painfully dull without you, isn’t it? Empty and monotonous and agonizingly boring, just like it had been before Kira appeared._

And the scariest thing was… L could feel the exhaustion seep into his bones together with Light’s body-warmth, making him melt in his arms. His heart-rate had already slowed down considerably in the deceiving sense of safety of his embrace and sleep that was usually so elusive to him was already getting ahold of his fatigued mind and sated body. It should have been terrifying enough to have him scramble as far away from him as possible, but, of course, he couldn't do that. The game wasn't over yet - sleeping together after sex strengthened emotional bonds between lovers, after all, and he couldn't back down now. 

Even if he knew that, as was usually the case with these things, it could go both ways.

 _I think we’re both losing,_ he thought in dry humor before he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Light woke up the next day, L was already up, standing by the window, speaking quietly on his phone. He was only clad in low-hanging jeans, a towel wrapped around his shoulders and hair damp from a shower. By the time Light sat up, he was already flipping his phone shut and turning away from the window, catching sight of him.

A brief silence followed, broken only by the crunching sounds of C eating from her bowl at the corner of the room.

“It’s still early,” said L, voice and expression unreadable. “You can sleep a little longer, if you wish.”

Light shook his head. “There’s no need. I feel well-rested.” He cast a glance on L’s phone. “Did something happen?”

“No, I was just calling Watari.” His eyes turned back to the window, gazing at the slumbering city as it slowly woke up. “I thought about something that you said and… I decided to give it a shot.” The corner of his lips twitched a little, wryly. “At this point, I don’t have much to lose.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that we will soon have another companion in our room.”

“...As long as it’s not a dog,” said Light cautiously, not entirely sure what to expect. All he knew was that this hadn’t happened in the previous timeline, which made him nervous.

L wrinkled his nose. “No, not a dog. Dogs remind me of Matsuda-san, and he’s the last person I would wish to room with.”

Light snorted. “True.” He hummed in contemplation. “A bird then?”

“No, too noisy.”

“Fish?”

“Too boring.”

“A snake?”

“I would never share living quarters with something so deadly, Light-kun.”

“No, only with the prime suspect in a mass-murder case.”

“...Fair enough.”

Light thought a bit more, but came up with nothing. “...I give up.”

This time, L’s tiny smile was more genuine. “Light-kun must still not be completely awake to surrender so easily.”

“Does it lower my percentage?”

L’s eyes finally turned away from the window to look at him, lit up with amusement, and Light was relieved. “No. Even Kira can have his off days.”

“How charitable of you,” said Light dryly, but he was smiling back.

L was looking at him strangely, but then he seemed to catch himself and turned back to face the window, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Light-kun should probably shower as well. I know how he hates feeling dirty.”

Light frowned, worried, but decided it would be better not to push. “You’re right.” He threw the covers aside and stood from the bed, dried come flaking off his sticky skin at the motion. Light wrinkled his nose - he really did hate feeling dirty.

Under the steady stream of water falling from the shower head, he felt himself relax a bit. One would’ve thought that, after having had sex, their relationship would become more solid, more stabilized. On the contrary, though, it was more fragile and more volatile than ever.

He let out a deep sigh as he applied shampoo on his hair and started massaging his skull. Perhaps he had taken it too far. He should have tried harder not to cross L’s boundaries, make it as comfortable for him as this situation could be, so that he could work his way through his defenses slowly and insidiously, sneaking inside L without him even realizing until it was too late.

But L always had that strange effect on him, making him want to test his limits, toe the line, take risks; he made him want to throw caution to the wind and answer a challenge with a challenge, even when caution and restraint would be more beneficial to him. And nearly every time he gave into temptation and forced his hand, he ended up playing right into L’s hands, making stupid mistakes and bringing him one step closer to catching him, until he was right there on his doorstep. He should have learned his lesson by now, not to let himself get carried away by the game.

And yet, he hadn’t. He still let himself act rashly, just to feel that familiar thrill, that excited thrum in his veins that made him feel alive, after a whole year of being deprived of it.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the shower curtain being drawn to the side, L’s face popping at the opening. “Mind if I join you?”

Light blinked, surprised. “Didn’t you just have a shower?”

L’s one visible shoulder shrugged. “There’s no rule saying I can’t take a second one.”

Light huffed. “Not that that would have stopped you.”

L grinned mischievously before he slithered out of his jeans and boxers and stepped into the shower stall. “True.”

Light let himself get pushed back until his back pressed against the wall. Again, L showed no hesitation as he lunged forward, capturing his lips in a heated kiss that left Light breathless and light-headed.

And as he let his head fall back against the tiles while L’s surprisingly skilled mouth got him off, he thought, a little helplessly, that once again he had underestimated L’s own competitive spirit that compelled him to go on the offensive, even when he was terrified.

_This is what I will miss most about you._

He closed his eyes as he climaxed, his fingers, tangled in L’s wet hair, tightening.

_You… You make it too hard for me to let you go._

The thought tasted sour in his mouth, even as his body sagged, satiated; it tasted like defeat.

 

* * *

 

_November 2nd , 2004_

It was an unusually bright and clear autumn day, the afternoon golden sunshine streaming in through the windows lining one wall of their small kitchen.

Since yesterday morning, a tense and solemn atmosphere had settled between them, but now they were both relaxed as they sat on the kitchen floor after they finished their lunch and taught C new tricks. The intelligent and occasionally charming cat was truly a blessing sometimes with the way it made L smile so easily.

Once her stomach was full from all the treats they rewarded her with after each trick she achieved, C stretched lazily and snuggled next L, basking in the warm sunlight. L started petting her absent-mindedly, his gaze drifting outside at the busy street below her, watching the people come and go in a hurry. Light mimicked him.

Lunch break was nearly over when L broke the silence. “Let’s take the rest of the day off.”

Light turned to look at him, surprised. “Who are you and what have you done to Ryuzaki?”

That earned him an amused grin. “Hmm, maybe Kira is controlling _me_ now. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

“You shouldn’t joke about that,” Light scolded him, rolling his eyes.

“A bit of dark humor never hurt anyone. So? What do you say?”

“About taking the day off?” He sighed. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind _terribly_ if I didn’t spend the rest of the day staring at a computer screen.”

L cocked his head to the side, amused. “Light-kun sounds very enthusiastic about the prospect of spending the rest of the day alone with me. I feel so cherished.”

Light gave a delicate snort. “I’m fairly certain if I showed too much eagerness to skip work, my percentage would have risen by at least five percent. Am I wrong?”

“Seven percent would have been a more accurate estimation, but yes, you are not entirely wrong in your deduction.”

Light sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s an actual logic behind these calculations or if you simply make them up on the spot.”

“Ah, I suppose you’ll never know.”

“I thought as much. So, what would you suggest we do instead of working?”

L bit on his fingernail and gazed at the ceiling, contemplating the matter. “We could play chess.”

“This could only end in disaster. Last time we played, it resulted in bruised ribs for me and a black eye for you.”

“Ah, is Light-kun scared of a little rough play?” said L with a playful smile.

“No, though I am a little daunted by the sheer competitiveness that arises in you whenever there’s a chess board in front of you and an opponent sitting across from you.”

“Only if the opponent is worthy. And Light-kun isn’t much better.”

Light shrugged. “I admit, an intense game of chess is capable of making my blood run a little hot. Which is why it is a bad idea.”

“Aw, but I like the idea of a hot-blooded Light-kun. He is much more fun than the infuriatingly nice and composed one.”

Light heaved a long-suffering sigh and stood. “Fine,” he said as he helped L get on his feet as well. “But you will have to explain any injuries to my father.”

“Duly noted.”

They set up the board on their bed and started playing. It had probably been a brilliant idea on their part not to use the brand new chess-set his father had gotten L for his birthday, because two and a half games later all the pieces were knocked over in the middle of their tie-breaker game when they lunged at each other for a heated kiss.

Light could admit that chess hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all, even though it _did_ result in a large number of marks that would need a hell of a lot of explaining if his father were to catch sight of them.

 _What the hell am I doing?_ he thought later as the two of them spent the rest of the day in bed, talking and exchanging lazy kisses and laughing when stray chess-pieces dug into naked body-parts unexpectedly under the sheets.

“You two seem like you’re having fun,” said Ryuk with a snicker when he returned from his flight around the building to stretch his wings, a statement that only helped drive the point home for Light.

_This is not how this was supposed to go._

He was supposed to be severing his attachment to L. He was supposed to hate him anew, rekindle his old repulsion for this maddening creature, this thorn in his side that refused to get out and instead buried itself deeper inside him every time he attempted to remove it.

He was failing, and time was running out.

After L dozed off, Light spent a long time staring at the ceiling, listening to L’s soft, steady breathing and trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do now.

 _The fifth of November,_ he thought. _L needs to be dead by then. Otherwise, he might just find a way to test the Death Note and the thirteen-day rule and prove my deceit._

But…

He gazed at L’s face, uncharacteristically smooth and serene in sleep, black eyelashes fanning across his cheeks.

 _You never make things easy for me, do you?_ he thought at him bitterly. _You always have to make everything as complicated as possible._

He sat up, running an agitated hand through his hair.

“Hm?” said Ryuk curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Trouble in paradise?”

 _What do you think?_ Light wanted to fire back, but restrained himself.

He pulled a little at the sweat-damp strands, the pain drawing a bit of the attention away from the panic and anger churning in his stomach.

_I fucked up._

There was no way around it - coming back here had been a terrible mistake. In the end, he had only made things worse.

Light had underestimated him - _again_. He had underestimated his tenacity and his refusal to lose. He had underestimated his scary ability to make the best of every opportunity - exploit every weakness and slice through the slightest chink in Light’s armor. But, more than that, he had underestimated just how much all of these things about L pulled him in even more.

It felt like Light’s insides were on fire, he was so damn _furious_ . Not at L - at _himself_. How could he let it get this far? How could he not even notice these pesky feelings taking root until they had already grown to thick thorny vines, wrapped around him tightly and squeezing the life out of him?

But then again, a part of him _had_ noticed. He had just chosen to ignore it… until he couldn’t.

And now, their roots had reached so deep and grown so strong that probably nothing could uproot them anymore.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

_I fucked up._

“You know,” said Ryuk, bemused, “if you like him that much, you could just keep him.”

The glare Light shot him was so withering, he was surprised he didn’t spontaneously burst into flames.

The Shinigami rubbed the back of his head. “Well, you didn’t seem like you enjoyed being Kira much after he died, did you? Without L spicing things up, this whole Kira thing… It’s just… _boring_.”

Light’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Okay, okay,” said Ryuk, holding his palms in front of him placatingly. “I’m just saying.”

Light gritted his teeth, but really, taking it out at Ryuk wouldn’t solve anything. He needed to calm down if he wanted to figure out what to do.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headboard as he tried to take long, deep breaths to clear his head.

_I can’t turn back now._

After everything he’d done for his utopia, he couldn’t give up. This wasn’t just about him - the whole world depended on him to bring an end to all cruelty and corruption. The world couldn’t pay for his own stupid mistakes. Which meant…

_L has to die._

And now more than ever. Because, if he was dangerous before, now he was downright lethal. Someone who wielded so much power over god could not be allowed to exist any longer.

Light opened his eyes again. He could feel his resolve solidifying, turning sturdier than ever before. Now that he could finally see how steep and treacherous the path to success really was, he had no choice but to become stronger to make it to his destination.

_This is my final test. If I can make it through this, I can finally become a real god._

In that sense, maybe coming back here hadn’t been a complete waste. If it was to become strong enough to bear the burdens of a god, then maybe it had been worth it.

Light glanced sideways at L’s sleeping form.

_You understand, don’t you, my love? It’s all for the best._

He planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

_I’m giving you a little more than a couple of days, as a token of my appreciation and respect. But, after that, I’m going to have to kill you._

 

* * *

 

_November 4th, 2004_

It was getting colder. The quickly setting sun was still shining but there was a chill in the air and storm clouds were gathering in the south, the strong winds pushing them closer and closer. L shivered and curled up tighter in his chair.

Something warm dropped gently on his shoulders and L froze. “I told you to wear something warmer,” Light’s voice came from behind him.

L wrapped the jacket tighter around his shoulders. He had been lost so deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed that Light had returned from his talk with Misa. “...Thanks.”

His voice must have sounded as odd as he was feeling because Light seemed to linger indecisively behind him for a few moments before he returned back to his own seat, and even then he felt him shoot him curious glances every once in a while.

And L…

He wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong with him. Usually there was something specific - small or big, reasonable or not - that set off his fears and insecurities. This time though, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what caused him so much unease. Work was normal; his co-workers were acting as usually; his doughnut tasted heavenly as always. Even Light’s recent ever-changing moods seemed to have settled and now he was acting normally.

...And maybe that was it. Light’s indecision was what had kept him alive for so long. If his mind was settled, then maybe… Maybe his time had run out.

And there was something… _distant_ about the way he was treating L since yesterday morning, even when he was being gentle and considerate. Like he had already written him off.

The doughnut right now tasted about as appetizing as a sponge in his mouth, so he put it back on the plate half-eaten and pushed the whole thing away. Like clockwork, Watari entered the investigation room and picked up the large platter with the large assortment of doughnuts that were yet untouched.

“Would you like some tea instead?” he asked L.

“Yes, thank you.”

Watari bowed politely and left the room.

“Ryuzaki isn’t eating his sweets,” he heard Matsuda whisper to Aizawa… or try to, because L could perfectly make out what he was saying all over from the other side of the room. “Do you think he’s sick?”

“Get back to work, Matsuda,” Aizawa scolded him. “How Ryuzaki’s feeling has nothing to do with the case.”

“But what if he’s controlled by Kira? I mean, saying no to sweets doesn’t sound like Ryuzaki, does it?”

L closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache forming behind his eyes.

“If Kira is controlling me, I kindly ask him to finish the job already,” he said flatly, making Matsuda jump and let out a startled squeak. “There’s only so much stupidity I can take.”

“Ryuzaki!” exclaimed Soichiro Yagami, scandalized.

“Ryuzaki, don’t make such morbid jokes,” Light berated him.

“It wasn’t a joke. It was a sincere plea.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I share Ryuzaki’s feelings this time,” muttered Aizawa, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 _“Eh?”_ exclaimed Matsuda, horrified. “You want to be killed too? Are you also controlled by Kira?!”

L was looking at his desk thoughtfully, contemplating the pros and cons of bashing his head in. On the one hand, there was the danger of death or severe head trauma. On the other hand, there was the prospect of not having to deal with this idiot ever again.

What a dilemma.

Light sighed heavily. “I think we should probably call it a night. We’re all tired and the case is moving too slowly, so it’s only natural for everyone to be a little… on edge.”

“Light is right,” said Soichiro Yagami tiredly. “It would be best to stop for today.”

All at once, the lighthearted irritability left L as suddenly as it got ahold of him and his body went rigid as the cold dread that chilled his bones returned with a vengeance.

_No. No, please, let’s not stop now._

_There must be something that can turn this around._

_If- If we keep looking… Then-_

He grinded his teeth, irritated at his own weakness.

_Whatever you do, don’t flail. Do not give him the satisfaction to see you so desperate._

_And, no matter what, you cannot show the team just how scared you are._

“Yes, you are right,” he said at last, letting his body go slack again and forcing his voice to remain apathetic. “You should all go rest. We’ll- We’ll continue tomorrow.”

The others exchanged uncertain glances but eventually they bid him goodnight and slowly filed out of the room, until the only ones left were L, Light and the Shinigami. Watari came back carrying a tray with tea, a container full of sugar cubes and a small plate of home-made cookies, which he placed on L’s desk before he left the room again.

“Light-kun should also go back to the room,” said L without looking at him. “I want to have a few words with Rem-san in private.”

He could feel Light’s hesitation and unease, but in the end he could do nothing but comply, lest his percentage rose even more. L started dropping sugar cubes into his mint tea, one by one, until a thick sludge formed at the bottom and started stirring, slowly, methodically. He picked up the cup and, after softly blowing on the steaming liquid, he took a careful sip. Then he took a cookie from the plate and dipped it in the tea before he took a bite. It tasted like cardboard in his mouth, but he made sure to chew slowly, like he was in no hurry at all.

It was only after he had eaten the entire cookie that he slowly turned to look at the Shinigami. She didn’t say anything, but her glare and the impatient slant of her mouth gave away her irritation and unease. L held back a small grin. Apparently, even Shinigami were affected by his unconventional interrogation tactics.

“Rem-san?” he said, tilting his head to the side in faux-concern. “Is something the matter? You look worked up.”

Her one-eyed glare intensified. “I thought you wanted to speak with me?”

“Ah, yes.” He dipped another cookie in the tea and popped it in his mouth, chewing leisurely. “I wanted to ask your opinion on Yagami Light.”

Rem’s yellow eye narrowed. “My… opinion?”

“Yes. I’m… curious.”

The Shinigami stared at him for a few moments, trying to gauge his intentions. “I have no opinion of him.”

L raised an eyebrow, making sure to look about as unimpressed as was humanly possible. “Is that so.”

“Humans are of no interest to me.”

L took another sip from his tea. “I see. Would you like to hear _my_ opinion of him then?”

“Not particularly.”

L ignored that. “I think Light Yagami is very… resourceful.”

“...Resourceful?”

“Yes, very. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Rem looked at him apprehensively. “I… I don’t know him well enough to judge that.”

“Hmm. I suppose you weren’t here when we were devising the plan to catch Higuchi. If you were, you would definitely be able to attest to that as well. As things are, you can just take my word on it.”

“Why would it matter to me?”

“Because…” He swiveled his chair more to face her properly, his eyes holding hers. “Whatever he thinks hinders him or holds him back from his goals, or even if it’s just of no use to him anymore, he _will_ find a way to get rid of it, sooner or later. He does not carry deadweight.”

“I... I don’t understand what this has got to do with me,” she said, but the uncertainty was obvious in her voice.

“No?” L drained his cup in one go and stood from his chair, taking the plate with the cookies with him. “I’ll just say this then, as a warning - whatever he’s holding over you, have no doubt that he will go back on his word as soon as he gets a chance. Leverage in no shape or form will hold him back for long - not even the threat of death. If there’s a loophole, no matter how small, he will find it. Even a Shinigami wouldn’t stand a chance if he put his mind to eliminate all obstacles. So my advice to you is simple - jump ship before it’s too late.”

Before Rem could recover from her surprise, he left the room, leaving her to mull over his words.

It was a long shot, and probably doomed to fail, but at this point he was desperate enough to give it a go. He doubted it would be enough to get Rem to betray Light - she was probably already aware just how untrustworthy Light was, so whatever he was holding over her must be pretty important to render her so obedient - but he couldn’t just give up and wait for death. That wasn’t him.

Now, there was only one other thing left to do.

Wammy turned around in his chair in the control room, curious and concerned. “What is the matter, Ryuzaki?”

L felt so, so tired. And those bells, tolling so ominously in his head… They never signified anything good. “Have you contacted the heads of states that might agree to testing the notebook, as I instructed?”

“Yes.”

“Call me as soon as you get an answer.”

Wammy bowed his head. “I will.”

“And…” He hesitated. “If anything goes wrong, you know what to do.”

“Of course.” His voice was somber and L felt like he might not be the only one sensing the storm that was coming. Did he hear bells too?

He sighed and took a cookie from the plate he was still carrying. He still couldn’t register the taste, but there was comfort in the familiar motions. “I need to decide on a successor, too.”

“Have you reached a decision?”

“No. Neither could fill in my shoes. One’s too cautious and inexperienced, the other too reckless and emotional. If they worked together, they could surpass me in no time, but Mello at least would never agree to that.”

“He’s still young. He might come around.”

“I don’t think we’ll have the luxury to wait for him to grow up.”

A heavy silence followed his ominous statement, broken only by the crunching of the cookies in his mouth. “Is it that bad?” Wammy asked at last.

“Yes.”

“...How long?”

A wry grin pulled at the corner of his lips. “At this point, twenty-four hours seems like a very optimistic estimation.”

Wammy’s eyes strayed to the monitors, gazing consideringly at the eighteen-year-old boy alone in their bedroom, getting acquainted with their new _roommate_. “Are you certain it’s him?”

“Yes.”

“He’s in love with you.”

L placed the now empty plate on Wammy’s desk. “Probably.”

“And you still think he will kill you?”

“I am sure of it.”

A small, sad smile formed on his caretaker’s face. “I can’t help but feel a little sorry for this poor boy. I must be getting old.”

L gave a quiet huff of dry, mirthless laughter. “Then I must be getting old too.”

Wammy’s eyes were warm and kind when they turned rest on him. “For what it’s worth, I’m very proud of you, L.”

L blinked, surprised. “What for?”

“For the piano. And for taking the risk.”

L didn’t ask what risk he meant - he already knew. “Thank you, Watari. But, in the end, it didn’t make a difference.”

“There’s a world of difference between losing because you gave up arms and losing after giving it your all. At least now, you’ll have no regrets.”

And he was right. L felt a lot of things at the moment; sadness, fear, weariness, anger, resignation. Regret was not one of these things.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he started to make his way out of the room. “I should go. Maybe there’s still a chance that… that I can change his mind.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it. Because, if that fails…”

“Hm?”

L paused in the doorway, a rueful smile on his lips. “This is my last resort. If it fails, I lose. And if I lose… All that is left for me to do is to make sure I do so in the way _I_ choose for myself.”

 

* * *

 

_November 5th, 2004_

The second Light had stepped into their bedroom, he froze, his blood turning icy cold in his veins as an image of L sagging lifelessly from the ceiling flashed before his eyes. Then he blinked and the image was gone, replaced by the innocent sight of a brand new piano sitting in their room across from their bed, its slick black surface reflecting the silver moonlight streaming inside through the window.

It had lasted only for a moment, but that vision was still in his mind as his fingers absently pressed on random keys, seated on the bench. It hadn’t been enough to crack his resolve, but, for a brief moment, it had rattled it ever so little.

 _Even now, you never cease to surprise me,_ he thought darkly.

It was easy, though, to shove the whole thing aside, opting to wonder what L might be talking to Rem about instead. He didn’t feel there was any reason to worry - after all, it would be all over tomorrow, so even in the off-chance L stumbled into anything remotely useful, he wouldn’t have much time to act. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy, especially since this was another thing that hadn’t happened before.

It was past midnight when he heard L’s light footsteps approach their bedroom, only to stop abruptly right outside the door.

“Hey… C, what are you-”

L’s quiet words were followed by a loud crush and a muffled swear. Light was immediately on his feet, rushing out the door to see what happened. He found L right outside, picking himself up from the floor, while C was circling him in a very peculiar manner.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just tripped over C,” said L with a tired smile as he reached for Light’s outstretched hand to help him up. “She kept circling my legs-”

Both of them jerked back in surprise when suddenly C lept to stand between them, hissing threateningly at Light, hackles raised.

Light, who had seen what C could do with her nails, back-stepped slowly, holding his hands in front of him in a placating manner. L, on the other hand, was staring at the cat in wide-eyed awe and some other unnamable emotion. It was only when C bent her legs, as if preparing to launch herself at Light, that he reached forward and took her in his arms before she could attack.

“It’s alright” he whispered softly, running his hand over her body, as if to will it to relax. “Thank you for protecting me, but I can take care of myself.”

After much coddling, C finally went lax in L’s arms and he managed to let her down without fearing an attack. Still, the cat’s clever eyes followed Light as the two of them entered the dark bedroom.

“By the way, your percentage has risen by eleven percent,” said L turning to face him, looking a lot more at ease than he had back in the investigation room.

“You really trust a cat more than your lover?”

“Of course,” said L, and the smile he gave him was unexpectedly breathtaking in its sincerity. Then, his attention was captured by the piano. “So? What did you think of our new roommate?”

“...I was surprised,” said Light, taking note of the sudden tension in L’s muscles. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” admitted L in a rare moment of honesty. “But this case seems to be taking a toll on me, so I thought… It’s a long shot, but…”

“Okay,” said Light and left it at that. He knew that it took a lot out of L to say even this much.

L approached the piano slowly, carefully, like he expected it to pounce any second, and then gently dragged a finger over the keys, so lightly that not a single sound was produced.  “I don’t even know if I’m going to play,” he said quietly.

“I could play for you.”

L looked up from the piano and met his eyes. His gaze was singularly unguarded, but still as unfathomable as ever. Despite the openness of L’s expression, for some reason it was Light who suddenly felt exposed, but he still didn’t avert his eyes.

Their stare-off must have lasted less than a minute, but to him it felt like an eternity.

Then, a sad smile formed on L’s lips - a surrender - and he nodded.

Light made his way towards the piano and sat on the bench, soon joined by L who drew his knees close to his chest and watched him place his fingers on the keys, pressing them experimentally for a little while, trying to get the feel of it after so many years. The piano trilled gently in response, the notes random but individually sweet.

“What do you want me to play?”

L bit on the tip of his thumb. “Beethoven. _[Für Elise](https://youtu.be/k_UOuSklNL4)_.”

Light smiled. “Alright. But I’m a little rusty from lack of practice, so I doubt this will be my best performance.”

“That is fine.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning the familiar melody to the front of his mind, and then started playing.

He started off slowly, as slowly as the piece could allow. He made quite a few blunders, especially in the first few sequences. Though he could see the score as clear as day before his eyes, his fingers were slow and clumsy, fumbling with the keys like a little child that had yet to grow into his body. Gradually, though, he eased into it, and the notes, struggling against him so much in the beginning, came out more and more willingly. In the end, he gave a passable performance; far from perfect, but that in itself gave him a slight, half-forgotten thrill, one he had missed ever since he perfected his playing, which led to his abandoning the instrument in the first place. It was always so exciting to have something to work towards.

As he played the last notes, he forced himself to look over at L, preparing himself for the worst. Since the piano was connected to a traumatic experience from his past - and quite possibly a trigger to flashbacks - he fully expected him to look a bit shaken-up at the very least. But he simply looked… entranced. Eyes wide and unfocused, lips slightly parted, body limp and relaxed… And his hands, as if of their own accord, were playing along too, his fingers tapping the melody on his lap in perfect synchronization. From his reaction, it was obvious that, to L, the piano hadn’t been just a challenge to tackle with mildly pleasing results; it had been something much, much more. And it was still calling to him, even after whatever was still giving him nightmares.

When the last note slowly faded, Light put his hands on his lap and waited. Slowly, like surfacing from a dream, L’s eyes regained their focus and settled on Light’s face.

“Not bad,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Light-kun.”

Light simply gave him a smile, somewhat strained. “Would you like me to play you anything else?”

L shook his head gently. “That’s enough for one night, I believe.”

Light nodded. “Alright. Then we should go to bed.”

“In a minute,” said L, resting his head on Light’s shoulder and taking his hand, lacing their fingers together. It was… surprisingly intimate and it took a lot out of Light not to stiffen.

They just sat like that for a little while in the peaceful quiet of the night, watching particles of dust dance in the moon-beams, until L broke the silence. “ _Für Elise_ was my mother’s favorite piano piece,” he said softly.

Light took a deep breath to compose himself, but even then his voice sounded a little cold when he spoke. “Is that so.”

If L noticed how standoffish his response had sounded, he didn’t show it. “She used to play it for me when I couldn’t sleep. It also helped when I had nightmares… much like your mother’s warm milk.”

Light scowled, knowing L wasn’t looking at his face.

_...What are you doing?_

“You had nightmares even back then?” was all he said. Thankfully, this time, his voice was back to normal.

He could make out the corner of L’s lips curve slightly in a wan smile. “Only because of the monster stories she used to tell me. Those are pretty much the only things I remember about her - her scary stories and the way she played the piano.”

“Why would she tell you those stories if they gave you nightmares?”

“I don’t know… or don’t remember. But I think…”

“Hm?”

L raised his head a little, and Light had to quickly wipe every trace of suspicion from his face before their eyes met. “I think that they weren’t just stories to her. I think she really did believe in monsters, and was trying to warn me about them.”

L’s eyes showed no sign of hesitation or fear as he bared his soul to him, and Light suddenly understood.

_He’s using my own weapons against me._

“Is this why you were so shaken when the Second Kira mentioned Shinigami?”

L gave a rueful smile. “It was like my own nightmares had come to life. But, I’ve come to realize, it’s never monsters that cause the most heartbreak. After all, it was a human that killed her and then tried to kill me - not a monster.”

“And Kira is human too,” Light completed his thought.

L nodded. “Doesn’t that make it easier to understand why I trust humans so little?”

“It does. But, if you trust humans so little, and me less than most, then why are you telling me all this?”

“It’s not like you can find out my identity using this information. And...” L’s gaze was clear and razor-sharp and Light felt his breath hitch. “I really do believe in the concept of equal trades. ‘An eye for an eye’; a truth for a truth. And I know Light-kun is too stubborn to run away from a challenge.”

“So, you want a truth in return?” Light brushed L’s fringe away from his eyes, so that nothing could obscure that breathtaking clever gaze. “Any truth?”

“One that is intimate and of no practical use, like mine.”

Light thought about it for a few electric moments. “I’m in love with you,” he said at last, meeting L’s gaze unflinchingly. “My life was so dull and empty before you came into it. And when this case is over, letting you go again is going to be harder than you can imagine. Does this meet the quota?”

From the wry tilt of his lips, Light was certain L caught the real meaning behind his words. “It exceeded it, actually. It was supposed to be of no practical use.”

Light pinned L with a steady stare. “It is of no practical use.”

 _Even now that I’ve let you know you are going to die and that I am going to be saddened by it,_ his words meant, _there’s nothing you can do to stop it._

L’s eyes widened a fraction as it sunk in before he swallowed and nodded in understanding. His eyes looked so, so tired. “...I see.” He leaned in and left a soft, lingering kiss on his lips, making Light’s insides quiver. “Thank you for humoring me, Light,” he said before he stood and left the room.

As the minutes ticked by and it became obvious that L wouldn’t come back, Light got in the bed pulled the knob of his watch four times.

And then it was done. Two English names, followed by the same date and time they had died last time, again by heart-attack; all of them written under the cover of the bed-sheets with a mechanical pencil with a fine point he’d hid in the bed-frame, in tiny, tightly-pact letters to fit in the little space on the other side of Higuchi’s name. All the while, the cat staring at him from the corner of the room, with fire in her luminous eyes, like she knew exactly what he was doing, but doing nothing to stop him.

Once it was written, nothing could change or undo it. It was over.

Outside, it had already started to rain, while thunder rumbled lowly and ominously in the distance.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

 

* * *

 

When L didn’t turn up at the investigation room in the morning, Light knew where to look for him. Compared to the previous timeline, it was too early for him to have sought refuge there, but much had changed this time.

L was standing against the pouring rain on the roof, just like he thought he would be, and he was already soaked through, even though the storm wasn’t as bad right now as it would be later in the day - meaning that he had been there for a while. He was shaking really bad too.

Not bothering to stay and chat this time, Light walked out in the rain and approached him. The raindrops were falling hard on him and pelting him like bullets, but Light just walked on until he was standing right behind him. L didn’t seem to notice his presence at all.

Light quickly shedded his jacket and wrapped it around L’s bony shoulders. L jolted and turned his head to look at him, with eyes too bright and  cheeks inflamed.

“Idiot,” Light berated him softly as he collected him in his arms and started to carry him back inside. “You must be burning up.”

L didn’t say anything; he just buried his head in Light’s shoulder, while his right hand clutched at his damp shirt.

Back in their room, Light got to work; first removing L’s soaked clothes and throwing them in the hamper, then toweling him off until he was dry, and finally cladding him in much warmer clothes - one of Light’s wool sweaters, thick sweatpants and warm socks. During the whole process, L was strangely listless and compliant; the fact that L did not protest the violation of his strict dress-code was most worrying of all.

Even ten minutes later, as Light was working on drying L’s hair with a fluffy towel, L still hadn’t said a word. He was just sitting on the bed between Light’s legs with a blanket wrapped around him, trembling, his knees drawn to his chest and his back hunched over more than ever before. The only sound he made was the occasional cough or sniffle.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell you were thinking, standing in the middle of a rainstorm like that?” he asked gently, still toweling his dark hair.

L was silent for a while. When he spoke, his quiet voice was nasal and hoarse. “There used to be a belltower at the estate I spent most of my childhood and adolescence in.”

Light didn’t question the non-sequitur.

_The bells. Of course._

“You always knew when something bad had happened, because the bells would toll in a slow, mournful tempo. That bone-chilling sound still haunts my nightmares sometimes - just like the piano.” A sudden cough-fit forced him to stop talking for a few moments.

“...Sometimes it haunts my waking moments as well,” he said once he had settled, and his voice was so quiet Light might have missed it if he hadn’t been waiting for it.

Light finally put the towel aside now that L’s hair was mostly dry and wrapped his arms around him, placing a soft kiss on his too-warm neck. “Nothing bad has happened.”

L twisted and shifted between his legs so that he could rest his head on his shoulder.

“...Not yet,” he whispered against Light’s skin.

Light carded his fingers through his hair, pretending not to have heard that last bit. “You’re burning up. We should get you a thermometer and some medicine. Some warm honeyed tea would be good for your sore throat as well.”

L shook his head and buried his face deeper into the crook of his neck. “I just want to stay here for a while.”

“...Okay. Just for a little while. Then we _will_ get some medicine in you.”

“Mm-hmm.”

It took L less than a minute to doze off in his arms, and if that didn’t constitute as reason for concern, then Light didn’t know what would. He considered giving Watari a call with L’s cell-phone just for show, but since Watari was watching everything through the surveillance cameras already, he could later claim that, if Watari had deemed it necessary to intervene for his employer’s sake, he would have done so without being told to. In the end, he decided to let him rest a little bit.

For the next few hours, nothing was heard but the storm raging outside, heavy rain pattering against the window-panes and thunder cracking and rumbling. Sometimes, L would murmur something unintelligible in his sleep and snuggle in closer, and Light would pretend he didn’t hear Ryuk’s quiet snickering when that happened. 

To an outsider, the scene would probably look warm and domestic, but Light just felt cold and weary and irritable, despite L’s overheated body in his arms. He just wanted this whole charade to end. He wanted his attachment to L to end.

With only a few minutes left, L’s phone went off, just like before. Light took a deep breath before he gently shook L to rouse him. L did wake, but he did so sluggishly, his eyelids drooping heavily over his dark eyes.

“Your phone’s ringing,” said Light, voice feather-soft.

L’s eyes looked surprisingly clear now as they searched his face. “Let it ring,” he said finally and let his eyelids fall closed again. “It doesn’t matter now.”

And Light…

“What are you doing?” he asked, and his voice, though quiet, was harsher than he meant it to be.

L opened his eyes slowly, and there was an unexpected spark of defiance in them. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting like you are already dead all day. What is this all about? Don’t tell me you’ve given up. Are you really going to let Kira win so easily?”

“Hmm?” said L, and there was that scathingly, _infuriatingly_ innocent lilt in his voice that Light was inexplicably glad it was back. This was the L he knew. “Do you wish to watch me flail around hopelessly before I let out my dying breath? Would you find that entertaining?”

Something sparked in Light and spread through his veins like wildfire, something he hadn’t felt so acutely ever before. It could be love and it could be hate and it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

L arched an eyebrow when Light didn’t - _couldn’t_ \- respond. “Is it really that wrong to choose to lose in your own terms? Perhaps you think it’s cowardly. That is understandable. Or... maybe the reason you are so angry with me right now is not because you think I’ve given up - it’s because you know _you_ have, even if you would never admit it.”

Wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets in his lap, cheeks flushed with high fever and with death only a few short minutes away, he should paint a ridiculously pathetic picture. But his eyes were hard and piercing and his scratchy voice had a core of steel, and Light couldn’t look away.

It was only through some miracle that he managed to speak at all. “What are you talking about?”

L cocked his head to the side, a wordless challenge. “It sure must be nice to have a lofty goal to excuse all of your actions. _‘I had no choice.’ ‘It was for the greater good.’_ Every decision you make, it is acceptable to you, as long as you can reasonably justify it this way. You make it sound all noble and heroic in your head, but, when you get down to it, you are only ever taking the coward’s way out. Ending crime by ending criminals. Ending your inconvenient attachment to your nemesis by ending the object of your attachment. It sure looks clean and efficient, erasing the problem instead of resolving it. But, in the end, you do nothing but run away.” He narrowed his eyes at Light. “So run. I’m not going to stop you. But I’m not going to play to your script.”

With a sudden surge of energy, L pulled away from Light and stood up. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but that didn’t stop him from unsteadily making his way to the piano and sitting on the bench. His hands peeked out from the blanket still wrapped around him so that his fingers could move over the keys. Light recognized the piece at the very first notes, making the hair on his nape rise. It was Chopin’s _[Funeral March](https://youtu.be/3yh2InVsFag)_ , the exact same piece he’d been playing in his dream before he was hanged from the ceiling. The sound he produced this time, though, was different to the slow, mournful sound from his dream; it was strong, sure, and final.

“So, this is _my_ script,” he said over the piano. “L dies from heart-attack in his bedroom. He is defeated and disgraced, and no one is there to see it. The only witness to it is Yagami Light, who will have to put up quite a performance to smooth over the fact that I died in his company. In the end, everyone believes his distraught words, because Light-kun is the best liar I have ever met, but the circumstances make them uneasy nonetheless. So Light-kun will have to be extra careful from that point on. A success, but not quite without a hitch.” A small, rueful grin pulled at the corner of his lips. “Hence, I will die as I have lived. Enigmatic, hidden from view, and more trouble to Yagami Light than he would have liked. The end.”

His timing was perfect. The second he uttered those last two words, thunder cracked more loudly than ever and the fluorescents above flickered before they went out. And moments later his skilled fingers let out a jarring, cacophonous note as he spasmed.

Just like last time, Light caught him right before he hit the ground, though he would be hard-pressed to remember exactly when he had gotten to his feet. This time, however, L’s eyes weren’t desperately seeking his to confirm his suspicions. And this time Light didn’t readily give him this confirmation. He simply stared at L, who was smiling ruefully.

“Farewell, Kira,” he forced out, his voice tight with pain, and his hand, though shaking, grabbed Light’s collar forcefully and pulled him down to give him one last kiss. “Remember me.”

Then he sagged in his arms, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his unseeing eyes still wide open.

Ryuk’s delighted laughter was all that could be heard in the otherwise silent room.

 

* * *

 

_November 6th, 2004_

So Light performed.

L’s script was followed almost to the letter - except for one thing. Watari’s death, unlike L’s, happened far away from Light, so that somewhat lessened the suspicion towards him. Still, it was gruelling and stressful and Light was too out of it to give his best performance.

But that didn’t really matter at this point.

Midnight had already come and went when Light finally managed to excuse himself to their - his - bedroom, his evident exhaustion and distress serving as a good enough excuse to halt the task-force’s surprisingly thorough interrogation for the time being.

It was too damn quiet again, now that the storm outside had ceased as well. Even the cat - who'd been conveniently absent earlier in the day when L died, almost suspiciously so - was quiet, simply staring at him with her razor-sharp gaze from the back of the room. Only the strong winds were still howling eerily, like they were weeping, and it made his skin crawl.

Knowing very well that he wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he tried, Light ignored his bone-deep exhaustion and sat at the piano. Almost unconsciously, his fingers started moving over the keys, but stopped abruptly when he realized he was playing Chopin’s _Funeral March_.

He snapped the lid closed over the keys with a loud sound that echoed in the quiet room and he ground his teeth, the until now controlled and almost numb anger that was quietly bubbling under the surface overflowing all of a sudden.

“You don’t look very happy,” noted Ryuk, his comment as unnecessary and unhelpful as his presence in general.

But not tonight.

“One month for a day,” he said, voice tight in an effort to rein in his anger.

“Eh?”

“The deal,” he gritted out impatiently. “If you made it a second time, the price would be one month from your lifespan for every day you go back in time, isn’t that what you said?”

“Huh?” The Shinigami blinked before he let out a burst of raucous laughter. “So, you’re actually going to do it?”

Light was this close to exploding on him, taking out all of his frustration on this stupid creature, but… A gnawing suspicion made his gut churn. “You were counting on this, haven’t you? This was your plan all along.”

Ryuk cocked his head to the side and Light thought that the death god was _really damn lucky_ he couldn’t be killed with a Death Note. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a plan, per se,” he said at last. “That would mean I came up with it, right? It’s just the nature of the deal. It was designed by the Shinigami King long ago like this specifically for this reason - to be irresistible to humans, who always bemoan their past mistakes and desperately wish to undo them.”

Light scowled, the pieces clicking into place. “It’s a bait. Unlike the eye-deal, where the Shinigami takes a large payment upfront, this deal was designed to be addicting, so that the Shinigami slowly leeches off the human’s entire lifespan.”

“Hehe, quick on the uptake as always, I see! Yeah, it’s... a little like gambling, you know? I told you how much Shinigami love gambling. You start out small with a minimal risk, but when you see how easy it is to make a fortune like this instead of working your butt off, you start bidding more and more. And then, before you know it, you’ve lost everything.”

Well, that explained it. Light had wondered briefly why the price for such a deal would be so small when the price for the Shinigami eyes was so steep. The fact that the price went higher every time the deal was made should have tipped him off, but he had been so focused on L and his own confusion that he’d put it on the back-burner for the time being.

Big mistake.

“I’m surprised, though,” said Ryuk, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t expect you of all people to cave in to the temptation to do it again so easily. I expected it to take at least another year for you to admit that you wanted to keep him after all.”

Light’s lip curled, a sour taste filling his mouth. “That’s probably how it would have turned out, had L stuck to the script,” he grudgingly admitted. “But he knows me too damn well. He knows that I wouldn’t be able to run away from a challenge like this - not without stepping all over my pride.”

“Challenge?” Ryuk scratched his head, confused. “When did he challenge you?”

Light cocked an eyebrow. “Ending my attachment to my nemesis by ending my nemesis? Erasing my problems instead of resolving them? Running away? If that’s not throwing the gauntlet, then what is?”

Probably in L’s mind, this challenge was nothing but a way to spoil Light’s victory, a mind-game meant to mess with Light’s head long after he was dead - his revenge. He wanted Light to spend the rest of his life wondering whether he really had given up when he decided to kill L. Wondering if a different ending could have been achieved had Light resolved to try his damndest to find a way to keep both L and his dream of an ideal, crime-free world.

But Light needn’t waste time with pointless speculation and _‘what if’_ s. He had the means to find out the answer to this question. And, now that he had already gotten a taste of the power to change history, it was impossible to resist.

Ryuk still looked baffled. “So you’re going to give up another month of your life just to answer the challenge of a dead person?”

Dry, humorless laughter made its way out of Light’s mouth. Oh, it would be so convenient to write this off as his fiercely competitive nature acting up. It would be a lot easier. But that would also be running away, wouldn’t it?

Because the challenge wouldn’t mean much if it weren’t issued by L - the only person who could make his blood boil like this even after his death, the only person who could lose and still manage to keep the upper hand. L, who was extraordinary and infuriating and an absolute genius. L, who was petty and damaged and as much of a god as Light.

L, whose presence was the only one that could light up his grey, dull world.

The challenge wouldn’t mean as much if the bait wasn’t so sweet. If keeping L wasn’t so tempting - now more than ever, since he knew first-hand what it would be like to have him.

It was impossible to walk away from this.

Light stood from the bench and turned to fully face Ryuk. “Make the deal.”

Ryuk’s grin widened impossibly. “How much?"

"One day."

"Mm, so I only get a month in return, huh? You know, if I were smart, I would refuse to make the deal until the price was high enough, but, luckily for you, I have no self-control when it comes to good entertainment, and this looks like it's going to be really fun." The Shinigami came to stand right in front of him and grabbed his shoulder in a tight grip. "See you yesterday," he said and Light’s world fell out of focus before he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be really original here and beg you to tell me your thoughts on this chapter. I've been working on this for so long that I honestly can't tell if it's good or bad or just absolutely awful anymore.
> 
> I honestly have no idea when I will be able to post the next chapter. My last semester at uni starts soon and it looks like it's going to be hectic, so I really can't promise a quick update. In any case, if you wish to question me about my progress on the next chapter or about anything related to the fic, or if you just want to yell at me for procrastinating, or even if you just want to say hi, feel free to hit me up on tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/elliekayy). I don't bite :)
> 
> Also, if anyone's interested in being my beta, please let me know! You would literally be a lifesaver :D
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope I'll see you around at the next update!


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